


When You Were Young

by TheFlowerGirl



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2018-10-14 16:26:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 74,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10540194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFlowerGirl/pseuds/TheFlowerGirl
Summary: On the faraway island-continent of Geil, a girl is born in a quiet northern village.  While chaos erupts around her, she is blind to it. Her journey begins with a private tutor and a family friend. Her path takes her down an unfamiliar road of self-discovery, romance, friendships and hardships along the way.





	1. Chapter 1

Cloaked figures gathered around a massive statue. Blood red candles burned around the chamber. A man in the center wore a heavy robe adorned in gold, the symbols twisted into an almost mockery of the local religion, denoting him as the priest of this black mass. He pulled a small dark red book from his large sleeve and walked up to the statue. Lesser priests carrying candles and chanting flanked him. The chants grew louder and the whole building shook. Suddenly the wind began to howl and the window blew open causing all the candles to go out in one big gust.  
“Shut that window!” the dark priest screamed as his acolytes tripped over each to close the heavy window. Suddenly, the candles illuminated, in a blazing flame that engulfed the lesser priests. Their screams faded into nothing. The flames enveloped the statue, and its eyes lit up.  
“Rise!” the priest called. The statue looked down upon her subjects and drew breath. The priest and his acolytes fell to the floor, lifeless, the look of shock still on their face. She stepped forward, reached down for the priest's robe, and pulled. Wrapping herself in the red and gold robes, she left the church behind.

 

Sun streamed through the inn's big windows bathing the bedroom in the soft glow of morning. The bed's inhabitants stirred, groaning at the sun's initial attempt to wake them. A dark-haired man of about twenty-five peeked one blue eye open. Groggily, he surveyed his surroundings.The room had bay windows -an unusual feature compared of the typical hovels he normally stayed in.The table by the wall held the remnants of last night's dinner: something with cheese, strawberries and some top-shelf wine. He slid out of bed as quietly as he could and made his way to the window. The inn jutted out into the ocean; he could see for miles. He opened the window a crack and inhaled the ocean air. A child laughed from below, and that was when he remembered he was naked. He searched for clothes, not remembering where they'd landed the night before. Giving up, he slid back in bed.  
A brown-skinned woman stirred next to him and murmured a greeting.  
“Good morning, Mariah,” he murmured back. She threw an arm over him as he stared at the ceiling.  
“How did you sleep?” she asked.  
“Like a baby,” he said smiling.  
He rubbed his thumb over her arm, sending little shivers down it.  
“That always happens.”  
Mariah rolled on her side, reluctantly opening her eyes.  
“I can't stay,” he said, quietly. She rubbed his chin absentmindedly, noticing the stubble that wasn't there the night before.  
“So soon?” she complained. “Is there no way I can get you to stay?”  
She wedged her knee between his legs.  
“I suppose I could be convinced,” he responded.  
When Solin left the capital city of Mìla several hours later, his appearance had changed slightly. He stopped to rest under an oak tree and chuckled to himself. He ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair. He always seemed to find spirited women in Míla. Maybe that's what he liked about it so much.  
Míla was the largest city on the island of Geil, one Solin would visit with frequency. The island was his favorite place in all of Shaa. The Geilish people were lively and held their beliefs and traditions close to their hearts. Solin remembered when the island was still connected to the mainland, before the Great Accident. The Geilish were the ones to fight back the encroaching empire. The queen's brother joined the Geilish in their plight and became one of them.  
The island had changed so much since then, he thought as he walked through the countryside.  
Abandoned farmsteads dotted the horizon now, empty stone buildings slowly being reclaimed by nature. More and more people had begun leaving the country for Mìla or the mainland of Shaa, but he noticed some of the towns along the way seemed revitalized. One was even having a festival of thanks. He recalled hearing, on his way to Geil, that the Royal Valencian Silver Mine had been recovered; a vein of silver having been found on a routine exam of the mine. Still two days off from his destination, he thought a distraction would be welcome.  
Solin strolled into the small farming village of Aspri around mid-afternoon. It was late summer and the girls flitted by him with their wispy flowing dresses and hair that cascaded down their back in loose ringlets. They giggled as they ran past him. One of them with hazel eyes and chocolate hair, stopped and smiled at him demurely.  
“Hi,” she said quietly. “I'm Shiri. Would you dance with me later?”  
Solin smiled back.  
“I will, Shiri.” he replied, taking her hand and kissing it. She blushed. One of her friends called to her.  
“I'm sorry, I must go. I'll find you later?”  
“I'm looking forward to it.” Solin bowed as she ran to catch up with her friends.  
The Geilish festival of thanks was nearly the same in every country village. It started early the first day, with the farmers coming in from the outskirts. They would set up stalls, deliver their stores for the big feast, and set up tents in the field where the festivities would be held. While the feast was prepared, usually by the women of the village, the festivities would start. There was dancing, usually performed by the young women, as a sort of 'coming out' to the eligible men of the village and a type of ball game that required its participants to hit a ball around with sticks. There was music, and pole that children and girls danced around with ribbons, and stalls of salted goodies. The first day ended with a dance. Usually villagers picked their partners early in the day and kept them near for the three day festival. Ale would flow freely, and oftentimes, celebrations would continue long into the night.  
Solin perused the shops and displays, watching the children run by. Children were his secret joy. He never had any of his own, and the Geilish never seemed to have a shortage. He thought of his destination, a town far into the foothills of the Geil Mountains. He wondered how many children there were now, and how big the oldest ones were. His thoughts were interrupted by the girl he met earlier.  
“Hi,” she said, eyes focused somewhere on Solin's boot.  
“Hello,” he said, smiling.  
“It's just about time for the feast and my friends thought you might like to join us.”  
“I would,” Solin replied, running his hands through his hair. “I'm Solin. I didn't have a chance to introduce myself earlier.”  
He bowed again, a deep bow that warranted several chuckles from those around him. No one had bowed like that for several centuries. Shiri blushed and grabbed his hand. She was surprised at their softness. He must not be a labourer, she thought as she made her way through the crowd. She hoped she wouldn't lose her resolve. He wasn't bad looking, although he was a bit older than she was hoping for. She bit her lip as her friends waved her over.  
“This is him?” the copper-haired one asked, giving Solin an appreciative gaze. “Are you sure he's the one you want, Shiri?”  
Shiri blushed and sat down. Solin chuckled as he sat down next to her.  
“Oh ladies, I'm sure I'll be able to dance with all of you.”  
The dark-haired girl chortled, and looked away, suddenly interested in the farmer's stalls. As the other girls laughed, Solin caught a glimpse of a sandy-haired boy standing near one of the stalls. The boy was pretending not to notice the older man, but felt his eyes upon him and looked away. As Solin turned back to his plate, he saw the boy turn and look right at Shiri.  
Shiri was nineteen and still unmarried. When she turned sixteen, she and the rest of the girls her age “danced out” at the festival. There was one boy she had in mind, and she hoped that he'd notice her and arrange things with her father after the festival was over. However, when the boy showed up on her stoop a few days later, he asked for her sister, who was fourteen. They were married within the year, and she gave him several beautiful children as the years progressed. Shiri danced the next year, but no one noticed. She realized that she'd probably be an old maid, and started working as a teacher in the village school. Sometime within the last year, on her weekly trips to town, she met a young farm boy. He came to town every week, selling his family's goods in a stall he'd set up near the general store. His eyes were like the sky at midday and his hair was like the sun and his cheeks dimpled when he smiled. She found herself buying supplies at the general store more often, just so she could speak with him. His name was Pallas and he had just turned nineteen. He found the hazel-eyed girl vivacious and jovial and was thinking about talking to her father before the festival when he met Miranda. She had just turned sixteen and Pallas found the curly-haired girl very pleasant to talk to. He stopped staying late to talk to Shiri and the week of the festival, she'd found his stall closed. That was when she sprung into action.  
Shiri had never been with a man. There was never any thought. She was too shy to approach them on her own, and though she was attractive, men just didn't seem to notice her the way they noticed her friends. Pallas' wandering affections cut her deep, she'd have said yes if he asked her to marry him. She decided the festival was a great time to enact her plan. She'd show him. Her plan was to sleep with the first man who took notice of her. She knew Pallas would be there with his trollop and she hoped he'd see them together.  
The dance was a lively number that Solin remembered well. The women led, as was customary for this style of dance, and Solin was proud to follow. Shiri twirled in front of him, her dress billowing in the breeze. She giggled as she lost her balance on the return twirl and fell into his arms. Clearly, she may have had too much to drink. The room was starting to spin, and she didn't remember it being this warm on the dance floor.  
“Would you like to sit down for a while?” Solin asked, after the dance had ended.  
“No!” Shiri said, a bit more forcefully than she would have liked. “I'm fine. Just lost my balance and fell into you.”  
Solin looked up again to see the sandy-haired boy again, looking in their directions. This time there was hurt in his eyes. He stormed off in a huff as Shiri turned in his arms.  
“Was that Pallas?” she asked breathlessly.  
“Who's Pallas?” Solin asked, as the next reel started. He righted Shiri and gripped her waist tight, gently pushing her closer. They stepped off together.  
“Oh he's just someone I used to know. No one important.” She blew hair from her eyes.  
“He looked important.” Solin said, dipping her lightly.  
“I thought I was going to marry him.”  
He pulled her back up. Their noses touched.  
“Why didn't you?”  
“He found someone else,” she said angrily as she twirled out and then back towards him. “That's why I'm dancing with you.”  
Solin said nothing and nodded slightly, motioning her to continue.  
“He stopped seeing me right before the festival. I wanted to get back at him by sleeping with someone-wanted to show him that I could move on too.”  
Tears had welled in her eyes, and as the music slowed. She rested her chin on his shoulder.  
“But I can't. I just can't. I'm sure you're a fine lover, but when I think about it, all I think about is Pallas and how much this must hurt him.”  
“And yet you're still dancing with me.” Solin replied, lightly brushing her hair with his thumb. “He's right over there. He's been watching us the whole time. Why don't you go talk to him when this dance ends?”  
“I can't. He's probably furious with me.” She paused, looking into Solin's eyes. They were very kind.  
“I'll talk to him for you.” Solin said. “Once this dance is over.”  
He dipped her again, and pulled her back up. This time he pulled his face away. He knew Pallas was watching. The dance finished, and even though Shiri stood before him, chest heaving, and sweating, Solin walked over to where the tow-haired boy stood. He was working himself into a sulk when Solin found him.  
“Pallas, I presume?” he asked, bowing slightly.  
“What do you want?” Pallas asked bitterly.  
“I just want to talk.”  
“I saw you over there with Shiri. Shouldn't you be getting back to her? She might lose interest and find someone else.”  
“Pallas, listen.” Solin began again, spreading his hands out in front of him. “I'm speaking to you on her behalf. She's too ashamed to come and speak with you.”  
The blond turned away, resting haphazardly against a tree.  
“What could she possibly be ashamed about?” he asked angrily as the taller man turned towards him.  
“She said there was another, that your affections had waned and you no longer had time for her.”  
Solin saw the blond's entire body go rigid. He turned to face the older man.  
“That's what she thinks?” he asked quietly. Solin nodded. Pallas started again. “That girl, she was for my brother. He's just turned eighteen and he's looking for an eligible girl, but he has trouble asking. You see, he has a stutter. I told him that I'd help him find an understanding, patient girl before the dance. I was going to ask Shiri's father next week...She must have seen me with Miranda and thought I grew bored of her.”  
Pallas' blue eyes lit up and he grabbed both of Solin's hands tightly.  
“Thank you so much, sir! How can I ever repay you?”  
“Name one of your children after me!” Solin called as Pallas walked towards where Shiri was standing. Her eyes lit up as she saw Pallas walking briskly towards her. Her Pallas. He grabbed her face and kissed her hard on the mouth. Solin smiled and disappeared into the background. He was one of the few that didn't have a partner for that evening, but he didn't mind. He realized now that he was going to be exceptionally late for his next engagement. As he stretched out on his cot that night in an attempt to get comfortable, he smiled. Let them have an extra day of fun, he thought, in case his assumptions were right.  
The next day he awoke before most of the party-goers had roused from their slumber. He slipped out under the cover of darkness; his destination was still a day's journey. As he passed by the stalls that were the cause of so much trouble last night, a flash of blond caught his eye. Pallas was sleeping soundly, Shiri tightly encircled in his arms. He smiled as he said one last goodbye to the small village of Aspri.  
It was late summer, Solin's favorite time of the year on the big island of Geil. The leaves on the trees hung a bit lower, almost as if the humidity was too much to bear. There was a crispness in the air in the early morning that always left him feeling invigorated, and as he slid his off his clothes and walked into the stream by the river, he smiled. He had good feelings about today. Solin was headed to a small mining town in the mountains by the name of Thelios. He was friends with the local shopkeeper and his family. The shopkeeper could trace his family back a thousand years to the first Alanarian queen. In fact, his was one of the first families to settle in the mountains when the newly-formed republic overthrew Useless King Ratham five hundred years later.

Thelios was a wonderful old town that reminded Solin of the town he grew up in. Solin's hometown was gone. A thousand years of war and systematic genocide ensured Solin that he'd never see it on a map again. Solin hailed from the area now known as The Grieving Forest although he was not known to be of the Flores. He'd forgotten the name long ago, but he knew that it was near the Cave of Sorrows, once called Shimmering Cave and full of pink crystals. The Flores used them in their rituals, he recalled. There was nothing in that cave now. Nothing but death.  
He was an old man by the time he had reached the house on the hill. He pulled the band from his hair and smiled as the white hair fell down his back. This was the appearance of which Thelios was most familiar, and Solin happily obliged. As he walked up the big hill by the stream which was the border of the Iros' backyard a boy of ten ran past him. His black hair hung in loose curls and his blue eyes were full of life. Solin's gaze followed the curly-haired youth to the grove of willow trees by the creek. The youth climbed the tree with all the skill of a sailor. His sister, her blonde hair in pigtails and several years younger than he, stopped when she saw Solin.  
“Grampa Solin!” she exclaimed.  
“Katrine!” Solin dropped to one knee and embraced her. “You're getting so big! How old are you now?”  
“Eight!” She grinned, showing off some missing teeth. “I'm looking for Pavlos. Do you know where he went?”  
Solin turned to the grove of trees. He saw Pavlos peeking out from behind the willow's curtain of leaves. He stuck his tongue out as Katrine burst into a run.  
“Hey! No cheating!” he called as he landed back on the ground. “He helped you!”  
“Nu-uh!” she called back, arms reaching for him. “I saw you. Hey! Mama said you have to be nice to me!”  
As their shouts faded into the distance, Solin continued his way to the house.  
“Are you sure nothing unusual has been happening to her?” Solin asked Katrine's mother over his tea.  
“Not that I've been aware,” her mother replied, reaching over the table with some difficulty. She was seven months pregnant with the newest addition to the Iros line.  
“How many sugars?” Solin asked as she made a little huff of disappointment.  
“Two.”  
She sat back down.  
“There's been no magic in the Iros line for four generations.”  
“How about your line?” Solin asked, raising an eyebrow.  
“The same. Magic is weeding itself out of Geil. Ever since the accident with the mine, magic users have been seen less. The goddess is angry with us.”  
“But the mine has been rejuvenated, Nadia. The goddess has found favor with Geil once more.”  
Nadia blew on her her tea, never taking her eyes off Solin.  
“I still think your daughter has potential. Let me watch her for a few days, see if anything comes up. If it does, I have an excellent teacher I can send her to. She lives in the area.”  
“Have you discussed this with Stavros yet?” Nadia asked, pouring Solin another cup of tea.  
“I was planning to this evening, once he closed the store.”  
“How do you know she has any magic at all?” Nadia asked again, as a baby cried somewhere upstairs.  
“Because of her lineage. Valencia was a great queen-” Solin started.  
“Excuse me, Callias is crying. I must tend to him.”  
She turned on her heel and left the room quickly. Solin dropped a cube of sugar into his tea as he looked out the window. Outside, it appeared that Katrine had talked Pavlos into carrying her. As he struggled to keep carrying her upside down, Solin saw the younger two following at a distance. Ba'Lethi was holding Stephanos' hand. The last Solin had visited, he'd still been a baby. He smiled and waved as Pavlos lost hold and dropped Katrine. She pushed him over as he wailed. Pavlos was trying to push her off of him when the most spectacular thing happened. They both levitated off the ground. It was only for a moment, but it was all the proof Solin needed. One of the Iros children had magic.

Stavros Iros cut an imposing figure next to Solin. His curly blond hair was cut close to his head, in the old military style. His green eyes were always busy, always looking, always drawing in his surroundings. Stavros had fought in the second uprising as a youth and he had learned to always take in everything. He had high cheekbones, and almond shaped eyes with the gentle downward slant of the mountain folk. His strong jaw and sharp, pointed nose branded him as a native Geil, but only Solin could look at the Iros' patriarch and see the ancient Alanarian line with its soft features.  
“Thank you for inviting me to your table, Stavros,” Solin said as Pavlos and Katrine finished setting the table.  
“It is never a burden, Solin. Nadia has informed me that you wish to speak with me.”  
“The matter is very important, but we can speak after supper.”  
“Nonsense,” Stavros said, standing to help Nadia with the platter. “Anything that must be said can be said at the table. There are no secrets here.”  
Stavros balanced the big platter as his wife sat across the table from him. Solin waited as the family heaped food onto their plates. He was offered roast and potatoes. After he accepted, he began.  
“I believe Katrine has magic,” he started. Stavros dropped his fork. It hit the plate with a loud clang.  
“Why would you think that?” Stavros began. “There's been no magic in the Iros line for years, you know that.”  
“I do, but that's the reason I'm here, Stavros. I wish to observe her. If anything develops in the time I'm here, I'll send her to a teacher who lives in the area. It will be as if she never left.”  
Pavlos spoke up.  
“Kati and I flew today.”  
“Flew?” his father asked, helping himself to another helping.  
“If I may interject,” Solin began. “Very sorry for interrupting, but I believe I saw what Pavlos is referring to.”  
“My daughter flew?” Stavros asked again, voice wavering in concern.  
“Not flew. Levitated. Several inches off the ground. Not far at all.”  
“Is anyone hurt?”  
“Nah,” Pavlos piped up, mouth full. “It was fun. I wanted her to do it again, but she wouldn't.”  
Pavlos made a face at his sister from across the table. She squeaked and launched a spoonful of potatoes at him. He picked up his plate.  
“Pavlos. Katrine.” their father said sternly.  
“Sorry,” they both muttered.  
“Pavlos, go wash your face. Katrine, apologize to your brother.”  
Stephanos began to fuss at the end of the table. Stavros sighed.  
“Perhaps we should continue this conversation after supper,” he said, defeated.  
Solin nodded in agreement as Katrine made faces at her brother.  
That evening, while Stavros and Solin retired to the study with brandy, Katrine snuck down the stairs. She pressed her ear to the door as her brother crept up next to her.  
“You're going to get in trouble,” he whispered. “You know how Da hates that.”  
“I want to know more about this tutor Grampa Solin was talking about. They're going to send me away anyway.”  
Pavlos looked at her.  
“Da's not that mad. You said sorry.”  
They heard footsteps echo down the hall, most likely their mother's.  
“I'll tell you later,” she exclaimed and ran off. Pavlos shrugged and followed her. He didn't want to get in trouble either.  
“Magic usually manifests itself around age eight,” Solin was saying over whiskey. “It has been known to manifest sooner in your strain, primarily in the girls.”  
Stavros nodded. His feet were up on an foot rest and he was stirring drink his absentmindedly.  
“If Katrine's magic manifests,” he started slowly. “What would she be learning?”  
“Many of the same things she's learning now: arithmetic, reading, history. But also the theory of magic- how it is formed and used. She wouldn't be completely alone. Claire has taken another student. The companionship would be good for him.”  
Stavros remained silent.  
“When she comes of age, she will take her exams at the Council of Aisling. If she passes, she is free to choose her discipline, if she hasn't already by this time. What she does afterward is up to us to decide.”  
Solin stood then, draining his tumbler. He crossed the room, content with another brandy.  
“If what I witnessed today is true, Katrine should be under Claire's tutelage within the week.”  
Katrine lay awake, staring at the ceiling of the room she shared with her sister. After the excitement at supper, neither could sleep.  
“Kati?” Ba'Lethi asked, rolling over to talk to her sister. “Is Grampa Solin going to take you away?”  
“I don't think so,” Katrine said, as her eyes made circles on the ceiling. “Don't say it like that, Lethi. I wonder what it will be like.”  
As she dozed off, she saw pictures in her mind, of fire and a sinister looking man. She gripped her pillow as the picture vanished and a hollowness filled her soul. When Katrine awoke the next day, her mother was waiting for her. She sat up and searched the room. Her sister was gone. It was strange, the only time she was ever allowed to sleep in was her birthday, and hers had just passed.  
“Mama?”  
“Good morning, Kati! Hurry and get dressed. Your father and Grandpa Solin are waiting for you downstairs.”  
Katrine dressed quickly like her mother told her to in a green summer dress with the last grow-stripe pulled out. She pulled her hair back in a single ribbon and tied her everyday shoes before walking down to greet the family.  
“Good morning Kati!” her father exclaimed, voice booming.  
“'Morning Da, Grampa Solin,” she looked on, confused. “Did something happen?”  
She slid into her usual spot at the table, across from Pavlos, who was poking himself in the nose and crossing his eyes.  
“You're such a goof,” Katrine said, laughing.  
“I was bored and you were taking forever,” he said, poking Ba'Lethi in the nose instead.  
“Pavlos! Stop!” she squealed.  
“Pavlos, leave your sister alone and eat,” their mother scolded from across the table.  
“No Kati, nothing happened. Your mother and I have decided to let Solin observe you. He feels confident that you have magic, and will recommend you to his friend.”  
“Ooh! Is she gonna set things on fire?” Pavlos asked excitedly. “Cause I wanna watch then too!”  
Solin laughed.  
“Perhaps, young one. But currently that is beyond her skill.”  
It was was not the production her family made it out to be. While they were expecting something akin to fireworks, in actuality, it was the little things Solin was looking for. To the untrained eye, it looked like nothing at all, but to an experienced wizard like Solin, it looked like little “skips” of magic. It was midweek before Solin discovered anything at all. Katrine and her brother had climbed the willow tree by the river. Her dress and skirts lay out flat near the creek bank, abandoned for the short pants she borrowed from Pavlos. She clambered up the tree behind him as he laughed.  
“Come on, Kati!” he called as she stopped to balance off a low-hanging branch. “I want to watch you light something on fire.”  
“I already told you, I can't do that.”  
She swung her left leg over the big branch. The branch hung over the stream and in the summer, the eldest children and their friends could be seen jumping and swinging off the branches. It was now late summer, and school had started. Pavlos and Katrine were the only children who played on the tree these days. Her bare feet touched the surface of the water, her shoes and stockings having also been abandoned by the riverbank. She smiled as she raised her hand in front of her. She was pointing across the river. She breathed in, and murmured “fire”. Across the river, an ancient oak tree burst into flame. It was no where near where she had aimed, in fact, it was half a mile downstream. She slid into the water as Solin jumped up. Pavlos cheered as the tree was suddenly extinguished.  
“Awww,” Pavlos pouted. He began his climb back down.  
The tree was still smoking by the time Katrine swam to shore. Solin was standing, holding Katrine's dress in one hand and her shoes in the other.  
“Katrine,” he said sternly.  
“Did you see that?” she asked, squeezing the water out of one pigtail.  
“I did,” he replied calmly.  
“I did! It was awesome!” Pavlos jumped off the last branch and ran toward his sister. “Magic is awesome!”  
“What does this mean?” Katrine asked as she pulled her dress over her head.  
“It means that you'll be meeting someone new very soon.”  
“Do it again Kati!” Pavlos pestered as the three made their way up the hill.  
“I told you. I don't know how to do it twice.”  
Several days later, Solin and Katrine sat on the big hill behind her house. Several scrolls were laid out in front of them. Pavlos and Ba'Lethi insisted on tagging along, but he had gotten bored. Pavlos lay flat on his back, watching the clouds, loudly announcing to Ba’Lethi what he thought they formed while she tried to catch butterflies.  
Katrine had opened the first scroll. It was full of runes she had never seen before.  
“Solin,” she said, looking up. After the incident with the tree, Solin suggested she drop the prefix. “What am I looking at?”  
“It's a list of spells.”  
“Why is it written in these funny words?”  
“Magic is older than time itself,” Solin began. “When man learned the art of language, the wisest wizards in the world came together to write all the spells they knew. At that time, mankind only knew one language which was written in these runes. One by one, the wizards painstakingly copied down every spell over and over and placed the originals in the University of Termogran.”  
Katrine looked at him, wide-eyed. He wondered how much of that she'd remember.  
“So these are spells?” she asked, tracing the runes with her finger.  
“They are.” Solin said, smiling.  
“But how will I learn them if they're in a language I don't understand?”  
“You'll learn.”  
Solin unrolled the other scroll as Katrine set down the scroll she was holding.  
“What is this one?” she asked.  
“The different schools of magic.”  
Solin pointed to the Destruction Discipline.  
“This is where the spells of fire come from. When you lit the tree on fire several days ago, you drew from here.”  
Green eyes looked back into his blue ones, silently urging him to tell her more.  
“When magic first develops in a user, he is able to use whichever skill he wills. However, magic is very powerful, and some users will not be able to control certain spells. Usually, this is discussed between teacher and student.”  
They were momentarily interrupted by Ba'Lethi, who ran between them trying to catch a Geil Blue-leaf butterfly.  
“What are my strengths?” Katrine asked once her sister had passed.  
“I'm afraid I don't know,” Solin replied. “It's still too early to tell.”  
“Oh.” Katrine looked away, dejected.  
Solin smiled meekly.  
“Together you and Claire can discover what it is.”


	2. Chapter 2-New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katrine leaves home, and meets a new friend!

Chapter 2

Just outside of Dialandria on a rocky outcrop where the river meets the sea sat a cottage. It was a miserable location: constantly windy and covered in salty spray from the uncalm sea. From the outside, the cottage was very unassuming. It looked almost abandoned. There was a back garden, full of herbs, and plants for poisons. No one knew how long the cottage had been there; it seemed that it had always been there. Recent rumors that a witch had currently taken up residence there had been confirmed. She kept to herself mostly, selling potions and delivering babies to anyone that needed her assistance.  
Her name was Claire Everwind, and she was Solin's oldest friend. Together, along with two other powerful wizards, Mathas Kaïthos and Keiko Hanshi, they formed the Council of Aisling over one thousand years ago. Mathas and Keiko had decided to stay in the City of Termogran and instruct further generations of magic users while Solin and Claire, never content to stay in one place for too long, traversed the countryside, picking up students along the way. In recent years, Claire had erected a cottage. As was her way, she would move it whenever she tired of one place.Claire hadn't had a student in many years. She had been dedicating her life to concocting potions and creating new spells when she met a young boy. One rainy day, during the month of First Rains, a small boy knocked on her door. He was swarthy, dripping wet, and no older than eight. His clothing hung to his body in tatters and his dark hair was plastered against his face from the rain.  
“You have to help me,” he cried the instant she opened the door. “The Solarans, they've- they've...”  
“Slow down child,” Claire said, stepping out onto the stoop. “What happened?”  
“My mama and I, we're part of a traveling fair. My mama can do magic. She'd read people's fortunes for fun. These men came to the fair and accused her of being a spy. The just took her...and...and... I got away before they saw me.”  
He burst into tears as she enveloped him in a motherly embrace. She brought him inside and brewed him some tea. He wept for his mother and himself. She asked his name.  
“Devlan,” he responded quietly.  
“Where are you from, Devlan?” Claire asked calmly, noticing how the boy's dark eyes flitted back and forth nervously.  
“We move around a lot. Mama told me we live everywhere,” he said quietly, sipping his tea. He made a face. It wasn't the spiced tea that he was used to.  
A Floresian nomad, Claire thought. Floresians were rare to see anymore, especially in the land responsible for their removal. Claire knew Floresians weren't extinct, of course; it's difficult to remove an entire race. But after they migrated to southern Avri Ðo, most people forgot about them entirely. Floresians were known for their magic. Long ago, when the world was just beginning, Floresians gave the gift of magic to man. Claire knew that this boy had magic within him, most Floresians did, and she decided then that he would train with her.  
Claire soon discovered Devlan was a fast learner. Every free minute he would spend in the library poring over books. Magic theory, history, art, language, he read them all. Claire never had a student so voracious to learn, and it pleased her. However, Devlan was also prone to brooding fits. Whenever he would get an incantation wrong, or forget a spell component, he would lash out and lock himself in his room for hours. Sometimes, it would go on for days, and Claire learned it was better to avoid him at those times. He'd always come out to get his supper and some tea.  
Solin had visited Claire about six months ago when Devlan was in one of his moods.  
“I'm going up north,” he told Claire in ancient Floresi over a pot of lavender tea. “To Geil. I'm going to meet a family there. Magic still runs deep in Geil, even if they're slow to admit it.”  
Claire nodded. She poured herself more tea.  
“The family I'm visiting has ancient ties to the royal family and I'm positive that I will find magic in the eldest girl. I would like you to move your cottage to the woods outside the mining town of Thelios.”  
Claire nodded again, and Devlan emerged from his room.  
“Devlan, come say hello to Solin.”  
“Hello,” he said quietly, slinking onto a pillow by the table. Claire knew the Flores preferred to take their tea on a small, square table. They knelt on pillows. He poured himself a cup of tea as Solin continued.  
“The family would still very much like to see her, and I think you'll both find the crisp mountain air quite refreshing.”  
Claire turned to the dark-haired boy.  
“What do you think, Devlan?” she asked. “Have you ever seen mountains before?”  
“No,” he said, eyes focused on his teacup.  
“It might be good for him to have a friend when gets like this,” she whispered. “It will help him open up more. We'll finish things in Dialandria and move to Geil within the week.”  
Solin smiled and stood. He drained his cup and turned to go. He ruffled Devlan's hair as he sat his cup on the table. Devlan scowled when Solin turned away.Claire moved her cottage at the end of the week. The change seemed to be good for Devlan, and he could be found in the woods practicing his spells with newfound excitement. His dark moods were fewer, and further between, and Claire had carved a little clearing behind the cottage to help Devlan practice. She spent most of her time there, assisting him as she could.  
Several weeks later, Solin stopped back as he said he would with the news.[add something]  
“As I suspected, the girl has magic,” he replied calmly as Claire invited him inside.  
“I'll prepare a room immediately,” she said, turning on her heel to where her teapot sat on the stove.  
“No tea today, I'm afraid. I must console the family-they will be sad to lose her.”  
Claire nodded. Family was very important to the Geilish. The average family contained six children; even well-to-do merchants in the capital would have large families. Although her new student would be within several yards of her family, to them, she'd be miles away. Most of the time, when wizards came to teach in Geil, they'd be housed in an attic room. Bringing a student away from her family was highly uncommon.  
When Katrine arrived at Claire's cottage, her eyes grew wide.  
“There's a cottage in the woods!” she exclaimed. “I never even knew it was there! Was it always here?”  
Solin smiled.  
“Is this where my teacher lives?” she asked, dropping her things to clamber up a tree. She began tearing off her brand new store-bought dress. Solin didn't stop her. He just watched helplessly as the orange dress flitted down between the leaves to land next to him.  
“Yes it is, Katrine,” Solin replied. Katrine discovered she couldn't climb with the shoes her mother chose for her and she kicked them off. They landed unceremoniously next to her dress. Her stockings were next. She threw those over her head and they stuck in the branches.  
“Is she nice?” she asked, throwing one leg over a low-hanging branch.  
“She's very nice,” Solin responded, hiding a smile.  
Solin folded her things and neatly set them on her trunk. She’d need them when she climbed down.  
Nadia had packed everything Katrine owned or so it seemed, and no matter how often Solin told her that Katrine would be close by, she'd just cry and throw more things into the trunk.  
Katrine's eyes darted back and forth taking in her new surroundings. She had visited these woods many times, but never had she stopped to study the trees. Solin smiled; she would learn a great deal in these woods. Claire had chosen well in moving here.  
“Living here will help you harmonize with nature,” Solin said. “Wizards can improve their spellcraft by observing how nature works.”

Devlan had been watching them for a while. He hadn’t meant to. He’d been walking off a brood, as he did from time to time, when he heard noise in the woods. Rushing behind a small group of birch trees, he peeked behind the largest one. It was Solin and a girl he’d never seen before. She was the one who was making all the noise. She was about his age, in her underclothes, and hanging upside down off a branch. He recalled those nights Claire and Solin would talk at the table in a language they didn’t think he could understand. They were usually talking about about a girl. He wondered if this was she. She talked loudly out of excitement. He yearned to get closer. He didn’t look where he was stepping, and the leaves crunched beneath his feet. Solin looked up.  
“Devlan!” Solin called. “Come out son! I'm sure Katrine would like to meet you.”  
He had been spotted! Turning on his heels, Devlan ran back into the forest. Eventually, Katrine climbed down from the tree and slid her dress back on. Solin had enchanted a spell on Katrine's trunk had begun so that it floated a foot off the ground. It was beginning to wear off and would stop from time to time. Every so often, he'd push it lightly with his staff and it would coast out in front of them for several moments before stopping again.  
Claire was unlike anything Katrine had expected. Her dark hair was streaked with gray and pulled up into a tight bun and her ice-blue eyes still had that youthful twinkle. Her mouth was creased from smiling too much, and her eyes had crow's feet from too many nights spent up reading by candlelight.  
“Are you as old as Solin?” she asked when Claire opened the door.  
She chuckled as Solin shook his head in disbelief.  
“Yes I am, child. Solin just prefers to look old.”  
As she ushered them both into the parlor, Claire whispered to Solin in a dialect of Miithosi so old he had almost forgotten: “What a peculiar child.”  
The tea kettle whistled furiously somewhere and Claire quickly excused herself before running into the kitchen.Katrine wandered back onto the porch, where a dark-haired boy popped his head up from underneath the railing.  
“Hi there,” she said, sticking her hand out to shake his hand. Adults always did it, but the act felt foreign. “I'm Katrine. What's your name?”  
“That's Devlan,” Claire called from the sitting room. “Tea is ready, if you'd care to join me. That means you too, Devlan. Come along.”  
It was when they were all sitting around Claire's parlor table drinking lavender tea, that Katrine finally a got a good look at Devlan. His dark eyes were intense. He had high cheekbones and a delicate nose. She had never seen skin as brown as his before, and before she could even open her mouth to ask where he was from, Claire had answered for him.  
“He's Floresian.”  
Katrine's blank stare told Claire that she hadn't learned about the horrors Alanaria had once practiced. How fortunate.  
“Floresians used to live in the forests of Lier. Now they live in the jungles of Avri Ðo. Many are nomadic.”  
Solin glanced over his cup at Claire and nodded. Katrine was going to have to learn about the Grieving Forest and the Tree of Woe sometime, but not today.  
While the adults talked, Katrine grew bored. She slid out of her chair, and joined him at his table. She tucked her legs under herself as she had seen him do.  
“You're Devlan, right?” she asked, seeing him stare into his cup.  
“Yeah,” he murmured.  
“Do you like it here?” she questioned. His dark eyes darted away from the teacup and he realized he actually had to think about it.  
“I do,” he answered quietly. “Claire's nice. I miss my mama sometimes though.”  
“What happened?” she asked, seeming to Devlan like she was constantly questing for something.  
“She died,” he said quietly, staring back at his tea.  
“Sorry,” she whispered. That's what adults did, she knew . “Do you want to show me around?”  
“Sure,” he said happily. He stood.  
Devlan enjoyed living with Claire. He had never had a permanent home. He thought he had never wanted one, but Claire had changed all that. The snow-covered mountains of northern Geil were unlike anything he had ever seen before.  
“I like the forest,” he said excitedly as they walked back out to the porch. “I hope we never move.”  
“Move?” Katrine asked. “It hasn't always been here?”  
“Oh no. We were somewhere else before. I don't know how it moves, I think it just happens.”  
Katrine sat on the edge of the porch, sliding her legs in between the pegs.  
“Is it magic?” she asked, swinging her legs back and forth. “Cause I can do magic!”  
“What can you do?” Devlan asked, sitting down next to her.  
“All I've ever done was light a tree on fire. My brother asked me to do it again, but I haven't been able to do anything again. I don't even know how.”  
She flopped on her back with a heavy sigh. Devlan rested his face against the pegs.  
“Claire's good at magic. I've already learned a lot.”  
“What can you do?” Katrine sat back up.  
“I'll show you, come on!” He stood and grabbed her hand.  
The door latched loudly behind them and they both turned around. Solin and Claire stood there, smiling.  
“Looks like they're fast friends.” Solin smiled. “And his mood has improved already.”  
“How are you getting on, then?” Claire asked. “Devlan, why don't you show Katrine around? I'm sure she'd like to take her trunk off the porch.”  
Claire and Solin disappeared off into the woods, disappearing into the heavy overgrowth.  
Devlan slowly dropped Katrine's hand. He tried to pick up her trunk, but dropped it back onto the porch with a loud thump.  
“It's heavy,” he breathed.  
“Solin used magic to lift it. Mama didn't have to pack all my belongings, and Solin told her not to, but it's stuffed.”  
She grabbed the bronze handle on one side.  
“Here, grab the other one,” she instructed Devlan. He grabbed the other bronze handle.  
“It's still pretty heavy,” he whined.  
“Let's try to bring it inside.”  
When they finally managed to bring it inside, Katrine's trunk was going to have to be repainted and the handles tightened. Several of the corners were scuffed from hitting it against the door and a chunk from the back was missing, having flown across the room. They dropped it in the middle of the floor, and closed the front door behind them.  
“Let's never do that again,” Katrine panted heavily, falling against the door.  
“Agreed,” Devlan said. They sat there for a few minutes trying to catch their breath. “You've seen this already and here's the living room. Your bedroom is upstairs.”  
Katrine had wandered over to the door by the kitchen.  
“The cellar?” she asked.  
“No.” Devlan replied with a wide smile. “The library.”  
Her eyes lit up and she threw the door open. As she ran down the stairs, Devlan turned to light a candle and followed her down the stairs. When Katrine stepped down, she couldn't believe her eyes. Lamps that had appeared to light themselves were stuck into the walls, and it seem there was a never- ending supply of books.  
“How many are there?” Katrine asked Devlan as she ran off into a small alcove.  
“I don't know. I've never counted.” He sat his taper on a desk. “I've just barely begun to read them.”  
Katrine had already sat on a pillow and begun to read. She had voracious desires for learning and the written word. The book she had found: Wyspe, Lord of the Fairies, was a collection of short stories about a popular character found in Rōsshian folklore.  
“I thought these would all be about magic,” she said looking up to see Devlan still perusing the wall of books.  
“We shouldn't linger,” he said suddenly, abruptly turning towards the door. Katrine sighed and stood, tucking the book under one arm. They made their way to the upper hallway and here Devlan stopped.  
“Your room is here,” he said, walking down the long hallway to the guest room.  
The window was open. The airy curtains waved lightly in the breeze, and it was all Katrine could do to prevent herself from leaping onto the bed. She could see the clearing that opened to her house, but before she could stop herself, she realized she was crying. Devlan shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Looking over his shoulder, he crept off quietly as she cried to herself.  
Claire was sitting in the living room when Devlan returned down the stairs.  
“How does Katrine like her room?” she asked.  
“She just started crying,” he said softly.  
“Oh...” Claire said, knowingly. “I bet she misses home. She can see her house from her window. I made sure of that.”  
She stood suddenly, ruffling Devlan's hair as she turned to go upstairs.  
“Katrine?” She knocked on the door frame. “Katrine?”  
“I miss them,” she sobbed. “I'm never going to see them again.”  
“Katrine, look at me.”  
Claire sat down on the window seat and motioned the girl to sit next to her.  
“When Solin told me he was getting a Geilish child, I decided to move my cottage. It's magic, you see, and I tend to move from place to place as I am needed, or when I tire of a particular location. I know how important family is to you. I hand-picked this room myself. I wanted you to know that you can leave whenever you want.”  
She paused, as Katrine slid onto the window box with her.  
“If you wish to take you afternoon and evening meals with your family, you may. This is a school, Katrine, not a prison. What you do when done with lessons is for you to decide.”  
She smiled, and leaned far out the window. She could almost smell the river.  
“Thank you, Miss Claire.”  
Claire chuckled.  
“Just Claire.”  
Devlan stuck his head into the room. He had heard everything and it was then he wished he could join her. For the first time in months, he felt utterly alone.  
By the time Katrine awoke the next morning, the calls of her siblings could be heard echoing over the hills. She dressed quickly and found her way to the kitchen. Her eyes lit up when she smelled the traditional Geilish breakfast: eggs, ham, sausage, apple bread and dark tea. As she sat down, she realized the tea didn't smell the same.  
“It's spiced tea,” Claire turned to slide eggs onto the girl's plate. “Devlan asked for it specifically - it reminds him of home. I know it's not traditional, and if you'd like, I can brew you a special pot of dark tea.”  
Katrine had already poured herself a cup, and tentatively grabbed the non-handled cup.  
“Devlan, d'ya wanna play with me today?” she said, ripping a piece of bread and dunked it in her cup.  
Claire laughed. At eight, Katrine was already heavily steeped in tradition.  
Katrine suddenly announced: “I'm going home and I thought you might like to come. If you want a boy to play with you, you can play with my brother Pavlos.”  
Devlan was so busy mopping up his egg yolk with a heel of bread that he didn't even hear her.  
“Devlan?” she asked again.  
“Oh, uhm sure.” He smiled meekly. “I'd like that.”  
The grove of trees where Claire had hidden her cottage was across the river from the Iros' place. A footbridge, made of saplings and small boulders connected the cottage to civilization and Katrine grinned when she realized a few weeks ago it was nothing but walking stones. She made a beeline for the house, leaving Devlan near the grove of willows by the stream.  
“Mama!” she called, forgetting any and all obstacles on way to her old bedroom.  
“Kati!” her mother called. “You're back already?”  
“Claire is waiting for a few weeks to begin teaching. She said she wants to observe me first. Why does everyone want to keep watching me?”  
“Because you're special.” Nadia gathered the laundry into a tub and turned to her daughter. “And you're going to do great things someday.”  
Devlan watched as his new friend ran towards the house, leaving him behind. Shrugging, he leaned against a tree. As he begun working himself into one of his fits, a curly-haired boy stuck his head out from behind a branch.  
“Hiya,” he said, smiling. This must be the brother she had talked about.  
“Hi,” he muttered. The boy flipped from the branch and fell to the ground. He stood up and brushed himself off. He stuck out a stiff hand. Pavlos had begun learning proper etiquette in school, and this was the first time he had been able to shake a hand of someone he didn't know. Devlan shook Pavlos' outstretched hand. Claire had begun showing Devlan proper Shaa etiquette as well. He wasn't very comfortable with it, and ended up giving a deep bow as well.  
Pavlos grinned and bowed with him.  
“Neat, now I know how to greet people from wherever you're from.”  
Devlan had just begun to tell the blue-eyed boy where he was from when Katrine bounded out the back door, her braids hung loosely. A dark-haired girl holding a pail followed her.  
Ignoring Pavlos entirely, Devlan walked over to where Katrine sat on the grass cross-legged, blonde hair loose. Pavlos followed behind, curious as to what the dark-haired boy would do. Crossing his legs, he plopped down in front of her.  
“Hi,” she said, smiling. “Ba'Lethi's gonna braid flowers into my hair, but you can play with Pavlos for a while if you want. I'll join you when she's done.”  
Katrine's attempt at integrating Devlan into her family had failed that day. While Katrine's hair had flowers braided into it and while Pavlos grabbed fishing poles from out of the shed, Devlan had snuck off. By the time Katrine had managed to pull off her dress, climb the big tree with Pavlos and throw out a line, Devlan had crossed the small bridge back to Claire's cottage.


	3. Training Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katrine and Devlan begin magic training.
> 
> The story Pavlos tells is actually a throwback to season 1 of Venture Bros, when the Venture boys think they've been taken over by ghost pirates in the middle of the ocean.

As the month of Red Skies slid gracefully into Harvest Moon, Katrine found herself yearning for the winter. Wintertime in Geil was long and cold, but Katrine was a native Geilish through and through. While Devlan complained about cold nights and often asked Claire for a larger fire and a warmer blanket, Katrine would sit on her window box, the window open just a crack. The air carried a crispness that could be found nowhere else in the world. She breathed in deeply, savoring the smells of bonfires and decaying leaves, and fall asleep bathed in the light of the yellowed moon. Autumn was a time of celebration. Farmers would open their stores for winter, children would have several weeks of school off for harvesting and for festivals to Shain, and Ba'Lethi if the harvest went well. The market would close after the thanksgiving festivals, and until the midwinter festival to Alorai would remain closed.  
Devlan seemed content to hide in Claire's library with a mug of hot apple cider and a peppermint stick by his side while Katrine would often run off with her family. She could often see her siblings from her window. They'd take turns jumping in the pile of leaves her father made. The mountains were colored russet and gold, and one night, while she was curled up in the chair in the corner of her room reading, the smell of a bonfire wafted through her window. She had kicked off her shoes hours ago, and tucked her feet underneath her. She threw her book on the bed and ran across the room to her shoes. She slid them on her feet and took the candle on the desk. Devlan was in the library, and Claire was in her study. She clipped her cloak and slid out the front door.  
The sun was just under the horizon; the first star of the night glowed overhead. It was hard to find her way in the dark, but somehow she found her way. Her father had built a bonfire in the backyard and she ran towards it. Ba'Lethi spotted her first and waved. When she got there, her sister moved over on the bench and pulled the flannel blanket over her.  
“Did you come here all alone?” her father asked.  
“Yes.”  
“Claire doesn't know you're here?”  
“No, but she knows that I run off with my family sometimes.”  
“In the woods in the dark?”  
“I could see.”  
“She can just stay with us, Da!” Ba'Lethi was saying. “She still has a bed here.”  
Stavros never pushed the matter. Pavlos continued on with his story, The Boy Who Was Kidnapped by Ghost Pirates. It was supposed to be a ghost story, but Pavlos was never really that good at scaring people,and he kept giggling through the whole thing. Nadia came from the house, a tray full of mugs of warm cider, a stick of cinnamon in each one. Cinnamon was rare this far north, but Stavros got a good deal from a traveling merchant. She handed the steaming mugs to her children, and Pavlos finally sat down, giving up on his story.  
“Thank you Pavlos, that was a nice story,” Nadia said  
“No it wasn't,” Ba'Lethi muttered.  
“I liked it!” Stephanos exclaimed.

 

Solin would occasionally visit, as the nights grew shorter. Claire had begun making peppermint tea, a traditional tea drunk only in the winter by the Geilish, and over a pot of mint tea, they would discuss many things: things at Termogran, the political situation in Alanaria, Devlan and Katrine's studies, and perhaps the most troubling, the encroaching evil from the South.  
“The Great Mother has alerted me to a small cult of Nos in Sarithi in the South. They worship the Demon Queen Nos, who has been reborn. They are small now, but I sense they may be trouble in the future.” Solin paused, draining his cup. Claire rose to pull apple cookies from the oven and he laughed.  
“You're becoming one of them, you've stayed so long. Soon you'll be changing your name.”  
“Everwinter is such a bothersome name,” Claire said with a smile. “Sooner or later I'm bound to be discovered. I don't want to move until Katrine is ready to move on.”  
Solin nodded as he reached for the plate of cookies. Claire refilled the pot of tea as she sat back down.  
“Apple cookies?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.  
“Katrine told me all about them. Her family has a small orchard, as you may know. I borrowed the recipe from her mother. I'm just trying to make her feel more at home.”  
“When do you plan on teaching her?” Solin asked, reaching for another cookie. They were surprisingly good.  
“Soon. Her observation period is nearly over. Her training should begin when the first snow flies.”

When the snow did finally fall in Thelios, it did so for two days straight. Devlan could be found with his face pressed against the window once the clouds had subsided and the first rays of sun peeked through the clouds. He had never seen anything like it before. He had been to northern climates before, of course, with his mother but the fair would always leave when the days grew short, spending the winter in the southern nations. When the clouds were finally cleared, he ran outside with no parka. The snow was piled up to the porch and it wasn't long before he ran back inside with hands full of snow. Later that week, Katrine's father stopped by with several pair of snowshoes. She was ecstatic. She had been wanting to go outside for several days, but the snow was too deep. Claire encouraged him to stay, pouring him a pot of mint tea, and pulling a sheet of gingerbread men from the oven.  
“Katrine seems happy here,” he said wistfully, looking over to where Katrine was showing Devlan how to wear snowshoes.  
“She is,” Claire said, setting a plate of cookies on the table before sitting down. “But she misses home. I'm afraid once she begins training, she won't be able to return home as often as she'd like.”  
Devlan had grown bored of the snowshoe lesson and wandered into the kitchen. He grabbed a cookie and made his way to the library. Katrine had already pulled up a big chair and begun talking to her father. She talked about normal things, but also things she shouldn't know anything about.  
“What about Mama's baby? Do I have another sister?”  
Stavros clenched his jaw and looked to Claire.  
“I'm sorry, Kati. Your mother, she-the baby didn't make it.”  
Katrine looked to Claire, who gave a knowing look. Several weeks ago when the Iros brood was sent off to relatives for a few days, Claire had been called from her cottage to help with the birth. Nadia had gone into labour late the night before, and at sunrise when she showed some difficulty, Stavros had been sent by the town midwife to retrieve Claire. She had brewed herbal tea for Nadia to calm her nerves and slow the bleeding. The baby was breech, and it was all Claire could do to save Nadia. When Marisa Ambrosia deMiil Iros was born, with a shock of curly blonde hair, she did not cry. She was washed and wrapped tightly in a blanket and handed to Nadia to suckle. Meekly, Marisa tried to nurse and once or twice opened her deep green eyes to look at her mother, but as evening fell, she passed quietly out of this world and into the next.  
Katrine was too young to understand the details, but she saw the tears swell in her father's eyes, and she knew why she had been kept at Claire's all those weeks. Eventually, Stavros left, braving the cold to walk back to his family. His wife was still bedridden and had taken to sleeping in the spare bedroom. Katrine wandered off to find Devlan. The new snow was making her restless and off in the distance she could hear her sister screaming happily.  
“Hey Devlan!” she called down the stairway. “Ya wanna build a snowman with me?”  
Her blonde head peeked from behind the shortest bookshelf and Devlan looked up from his magic theory book. He gave her a look of confusion before turning back to his book.  
“I'll show you how!” she announced, grinning wide.  
He stood, calmly closing his book. He put it back on the shelf and took his candle. Katrine ran up the steps and past Claire. Her mother had packed her parka and long skirts at the bottom of the chest and she threw everything aside to get to them.  
Winter clothes in Geil were the most difficult to wear. Besides the heavy parkas, there were long skirts, worn by both women and girls. It was a long, rough wool skirt that tied at the waist with a drawstring. They were fastened to the parka in a series of small buckles. Beneath the long skirts were heavy boots, worn by both men and women, lined in fur. Fur hats and muffs were fashionable for women, while men wore long flannel stocking hats and woolen gloves.  
By the time Katrine had finished fastening her skirt in place, Devlan bounded down the stairs, boots untied and flannel hat trailing behind him. He sat on the lowest step and tied his boots before pulling his hat on his head with great force. Katrine tucked her hair into her cap as Devlan buttoned his heavy parka. He looked apprehensively at the snowshoes leaning against the wall.  
“I don't know how to wear those,” he said quietly.  
“I'll show you,” Katrine said, kneeling down. She helped his feet into the stirrups and tied them tightly around his boots. She turned from him to step into hers and when she was finished, she threw the door open.  
“Watch me,” she stepped off.  
Together they walked into the cold.

Playing in the snow was hard to do in snowshoes, and when the snow finally stopped drifting, Katrine stepped out of them. Devlan struggled, and she deftly untied his laces. He sank into the snow, up to his shins, and grinning, fell backward into the snow. Laughing, Katrine plopped down next to him. She waved her arms and legs back and forth.  
“Try it,” she ordered. When she was done, she stood and admired her handiwork. Devlan popped up next to her.  
“It's a snow angel!” she explained as he looked at her with wonder.  
He didn't have time to wonder long before Katrine bombarded him with snowballs.   
“Hey!” he cried, ducking as she threw another one. The snow crunched beneath him as he fell to his knees. The snow was heavy, and he wadded it together with no difficulty. Lobbing it at her, he ran to hide behind a small tree. They were close to Katrine's house, and as she gathered together as much snow as she could, Pavlos came running down the big hill.  
“No Pavlos, go away!” she cried as he lumbered into her. “I'm playing with Devlan!”  
“I'll play with Devlan too!” he cried, running to where Devlan was hiding behind a tree. “We can have teams!”  
“We can't have teams cause now it's not fair!”  
She squealed as both Devlan and Pavlos threw snowballs at her. Ba'Lethi came running down the hill next.  
“Here Kati!” she called. “I'll help you throw that!”  
Together, the girls picked up the giant snowball and threw it at the boys. The force knocked Devlan and Pavlos over. The curly-haired boy popped out of the snow and ran towards the girls. He tackled Katrine, who flailed and fell over, taking Ba'Lethi with her as she fell. The raven-haired girl squeaked as she fell backward into the snow. Devlan was about to turn around and go back to Claire's when Katrine flipped Pavlos over and sat on him while her dark-haired sister dropped snow down his collar.  
“No, ‘Lethi! Stop!” he cried.  
He kicked his feet to no avail, and Devlan couldn't help but laugh. He ran over to join them. Katrine turned on him and began throwing snow at him while still holding Pavlos down. Their cries echoed through the woods.  
The sun was low in the sky when Katrine and Devlan returned to Claire's. The river was starting to freeze and they had to take a different way home since the wood and rock footbridge was full of ice. The large bridge connecting her family's side of the river to the forest was a quarter mile downstream. They followed the river east until the big wooden bridge loomed above them. It had been recently traversed and the snow was compact and easy to walk on. As Devlan and Katrine followed the newly-made road, they happened upon a large, mean looking trader. He was clad head to toe in furs, and he moved in such a way that the cold didn't even seem to affect him. He was gathering water from the river in a wooden bucket. A small fire could be seen behind him, and the yurt he had constructed could be seem with a small trickle of smoke coming out the top.  
“You children be careful,” he said in a heavy Kurshan accent. “I've seen wolves in these woods.”  
He set the bucket down and crossed to his pack. Rummaging through it, he produced a small wrapped box. He picked up the bucket and crossed to his small campfire.  
“Thank you sir. We'll be careful.”  
Kurshans were not unusual to find this far south in the summer. When the Great Ice Walls would recede further north and White Cliff was open for trading, Kurshan ships could be found sailing the Sea of Mìla. In winter, the ice shelf would return and the northern straits between White Cliff and the Geil coast would freeze. The Kurshans would retreat to the frozen north and all trade routes would close. If they were on the move in the winter, something was wrong. A wolf howled in the distance and she shivered. She looked for something familiar and it was then she realized they were lost. Claire had set her cottage in a grove of birch trees, so it'd be easy to see in the winter. She turned to Devlan.   
“I don't know where we are,” she whispered.  
“Everything here looks the same,” he whispered back.  
Katrine stopped and turned around. It was starting to get dark and the wind grew ever colder. She hadn't been this deep in the forest before and with the fresh snow, all paths had been covered. She thought about turning around and finding the trader, maybe there was enough room in his yurt for two children for the night. It was better than the alternative.  
“This way,” Devlan said, pulling at her hand. She followed into a grove of pine trees, noticing the pink of the setting sun was beginning to fade. She could hear more wolves in the distance and shivered. Suddenly, the air grew heavy and she could sense a wrongness. Out from behind the trees, a lone wolf stepped into the clearing. Its red eyes glowered at Katrine and it sprang at her, baring it's teeth. Katrine screamed and ran back the way they had come, Devlan close behind her. It was gaining on them, that much she knew. She could hear it panting behind her, and she stumbled as she ran.  
“Don't stop running!” Devlan screamed at her. Tears were in his eyes.  
They turned again, and the pine grove gave way to a familiar looking birch grove. The wolf lunged, and pulled at Devlan's cap. Unconsciously, he yanked it back onto his head and the wolf growled. It chased them into a dead end and there it stopped. They were holding hands and shaking. The wolf sized them up. It growled, and then it spoke!  
“ I have come for you, Katrine of the del'Miithosi.You will die, Katrine del'Miithosi. Now.”  
He sprang at her. She squeezed her eyes shut when suddenly, in a great ball of light, Claire appeared. She threw several spells at the wolf. Before he left, he growled: “You must die, Katrine del'Miithosi. I will not rest until you lay dead.”  
“Be gone!” Claire yelled, stomping the ground with her foot. The whole earth shook. The wolf whimpered and ran off into the woods.  
“You will see me again, Katrine of the del'Miithosi. I am not finished with you.”  
The wolf seemed to fade away, as all of a sudden they were transported to Claire's sitting room. The walls solidified around them and Katrine could smell the familiar scents of winter. When she pulled her hat off, she looked down, and realized she and Devlan had forgotten their snowshoes back at her house. Hopefully, her father would bring them over on his next visit.  
“Are you alright, child?” Claire asked, grabbing Katrine's face and inspecting it.  
“I'm fine Claire,” she said, trying to pull her face away. “How did you know we were out there?”  
“When my clock struck five and you weren't home, I grew concerned. I sensed something wrong and focused all my energy on where it was coming from. Looks like I found you right in time.”  
Katrine had begun unbuckling her long skirt when Claire crossed to the stove.  
“How about some hot cider to warm you?” she asked. Katrine untied the drawstring and the skirt fell to the floor. She stepped out of the skirts and bent over to untie the heavy boots.  
“I'd like that,” she smiled.  
Devlan snaked by as Katrine slid into her buckled boots. He snuck off and hoped no one would follow. He needed to come to terms with what just happened. Katrine sank onto Claire's divan, and inhaled deeply. One of the Iros' apple trees had fallen over in one of the spring storms. Katrine's father had offered Claire some of the wood for the winter.  
“It will help her with homesickness,” he suggested as he handed her a list of Katrine's favorite wintertime things.  
The ingredients for gingerbread men were easy enough to find, but Claire lacked a cedar chest and heavy blankets, so one yellowed day in the fall, Stavros and an assistant from his shop brought Katrine's chest from her room. She knew none of this so when Claire brought her a mug of cider and pulled a quilt from storage, her eyes grew wide. Claire set in around her shoulders and Katrine brought her face towards it. She smelled it and smiled. It smelled just like home. She closed her eyes, and let her mind wander: her mother pulling pies out of the oven, her brother being a pest, the smell of her father's pipe as he did ledgers in his study. She opened her eyes and looked around. This was her home now. It smelled like she remembered, but was too quiet. There was no laughter, just the sound of the clock ticking in the sitting room and the occasional creak of the floorboards after Devlan went back upstairs.  
Claire sat down next to her, steaming mug in her hand.  
“I think it's time to start your training,” she said with a smile.  
“It is?” Katrine's eyes lit up.  
“The wolf today was proof that you need to know some offensive spells.”  
“What did he mean?” Katrine asked, sipping her cider carefully.  
“Troubling times are ahead, Katrine. Best prepare for them when we have the chance. You'll begin your training tomorrow.”  
Katrine stared into the fire, sipping her cider, both excited and apprehensive on what Claire had in store for her, and as she went to sleep that night, she found she could hardly sleep.

Katrine awoke the next morning to discover that overnight, Claire had made a clearing behind the house. The snow was gone and the sun shone clear in the cloudless sky. The trees hung heavy with leaves and Katrine looked out the window in amazement. She opened the window, curious on how the weather worked. She was rewarded with a warm breeze. Already outside, Devlan waved. She smiled back and rushed upstairs. She dressed in a hurry and met them both outside. It was too warm for her winter shawl and long skirts, and they were abandoned on the back porch. She crossed to where Claire stood with Devlan, who was concentrating.  
“How are you doing this?” she asked in amazement. Devlan lost his concentration and scowled.  
“Katrine! Now I have to do this again!”  
He pouted and stomped off to another part of the clearing. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He counted backwards, down from ten in Floresi.  
“It's a barrier,” Claire turned towards her. Katrine was still looking over to where Devlan had stomped off.  
“He does that from time to time, when a spell doesn't work the way he wants it to. He'll be alright, don't worry.”  
“What kind of barrier is this?” Katrine asked. “You made the snow melt and the trees grow.”  
“I just restored them to their previous state,” Claire answered. “But only we can see it, to everyone else, this appears as a quiet, snowy forest with a quaint little cottage. It's much easier to practice in the warmth, as you'll discover.”  
Katrine sat in front of her, crossing her legs and looked up wide eyed.   
“Let's start with the basics,” Claire began, joining her on the soft grass. “What do you know?”  
Katrine looked at her and thought back to the things Solin taught her.  
“I know that there are different schools,” she started. “And that the Floresians gave magic to man as a gift from the gods. Uhhm... I lit a tree a fire?”  
She stopped and Claire realized that was all she knew. She groaned. There was a lot of work to do.  
While Devlan was content to hide in the grove of trees practicing his spells, Katrine and Claire sat in the clearing with books in front of them. Claire rolled out a scroll and set two heavy books on each end to weigh it down. There was that funny writing again, Katrine noticed. Before she could eve ask, Claire had already started talking.  
“These are runes, Katrine. You were correct when you said they were given to man from the Floresians. But do you know why they are written in runes?”  
She shook her head.  
“The dwarves use runes in their writings,” Claire continued. “And at the time, dwarven, or Mättran, was commonly spoken amongst humans.”  
“Why?” Katrine asked.  
“Many of the beautiful stonework buildings you see today was built by dwarves by hand without magic. I believe your mines were also built by dwarves.”  
Katrine smiled. Thelios prized its mines above all else.  
“Humans were still building dwellings out of wood. It was King Bran vo Alanaria who enlisted the help of the dwarves. Back then, Alanaria was still ruled by a king.”  
Katrine knew this, but had never heard it so honestly. The Queen and her “endeavours” were still looked on with disdain on the “Lost Province”.  
“Dwarves were so commonplace back then that most humans knew several languages- their  
own, and Mättran.”  
“But we don't speak dwarven now.”  
“No, we don't. But when this was written, most people couldn't imagine not speaking it. When King Bran reneged on his agreement, the dwarves locked themselves back up under the mountains, taking their secrets with them. Eventually, knowing Mättran fell out of favour. It was mandatory to learn in Termogran and eventually became the language of magic.”  
She pointed to the first column of runes, and encouraged Katrine to follow along. She read each line aloud slowly and Katrine's mouth fell open. She didn't understand the guttural sounds by any means, but Claire gave the runes life and in her mind's eye, she could see the element each one signified.  
“What did you do?” she asked when Claire was finished. “I could see them all.”  
“That's the power of these words, Katrine.” Claire pulled her legs in and balanced on her knees. “You must always take care when you're learning magic. As such, we won't be formally learning any spells today.”  
Katrine's heart sank. She watched Devlan as he walked around the grove of trees, muttering something. When he kicked his foot out, the ground shook.  
“In order to understand how magic works, first you must learn magic theory.”  
She picked up the two large books holding down the parchment. It rolled together, the ends meeting in the middle. She stood and motioned for Katrine to to do the same.  
“I've marked the sections in each book I'd like you to study. Why don't you find a nice place to sit and look them over. You can always ask me any questions you may have about it.”  
Katrine took the heavy books from Claire and walked towards the large oak in the center of the clearing.  
“Would you like any tea?” Claire asked as Katrine sat down, grumbling slightly. “I can make you some citrus tea, even though it's winter.”  
Katrine looked up and smiled as she opened the burgundy leather-covered tome. Claire turned on her heel and walked up the porch steps and the door slammed behind her. She had just begun mixing lemon and orange wedges into her black tea when Solin appeared on the divan. Unfazed, Claire pumped water from the sink into her teapot. She set it on the stove and threw another log into the fire.  
“Hello Claire,” he said softly as she set four cups on the table.   
“Hello Solin,” she looked up briefly. “And what do I owe this visit?”  
His appearance had changed since the last time she had seen him. His coal-black hair was pulled into a ponytail, and his eyes were clear. He had abandoned his long robe, instead opting for high boots, tan leather breeches, a frilly white shirt and a burgundy waistcoat with gold embroidery.  
“I'm on my way to Míla,” he responded in Old Rōsshian . “And I thought I'd stop by.”  
He smiled.  
“You can't just come in here looking like this,” Claire chided him and her tea kettle whistled. She turned from the stove and poured the steaming water into the teapot, mixing in just a small amount of honey. “Not until she knows.”  
“The Great Mother has prevented me from interfering on what is to come and I'm bored.”  
“Solin's string of broken hearts continues on?” Claire set the pot and cups on a tray. “Now be gone before Katrine comes in here and finds you like this.”  
Solin laughed heartily and winked before disappearing completely.

“How are those passages coming along?” Claire asked. She set the tray on a small table and then picked up the whole thing. She set it down next to Katrine under the tree. “Let's break for tea!”  
She poured three cups and Devlan emerged from the trees.  
“I don't know if I can get all this,” Katrine whined. She quietly accepted a cup as Claire spoke up.  
“We'll try practical examples after tea.”  
“It's not that hard,” Devlan piped up.  
“It is for me!” she shot back. “You've been around magic your whole life. I only just found this existed and I don't know what to do.”  
She could feel the tears well in her eyes and she tried to fight them back, but she was powerless to stop them from rolling down her cheeks. Devlan stared into his tea. He shifted uncomfortably as Claire pulled Katrine to her chest.  
“Oh Katrine, it's alright. People just learn at different speeds. Devlan may be a bit more advanced right now, but I sense that one day you'll excel him.”  
“You think so?” she asked. She pulled her face away and looked at Claire through teary eyes.  
“Oh I know so.”  
The older woman smiled, and offered a handkerchief to the girl. She wiped her eyes and smiled back.  
“Let me show you these examples.”  
She stood and centered herself.  
“The first thing you need to learn is concentration. Clear your mind of all distractions.”  
She took several deep breaths and closed her eyes. Outstretching her arm, she opened her hand. She made a circle with her wrists. A small glimmer of flame appeared and Katrine realized she was holding her breath. The flame disappeared and Claire reached her arms to the heavens. She shouted, and lightning streamed down through her fingertips. She moved one hand, and it cracked again, exploding somewhere off in the distance. Katrine couldn't help but clap. The gibberish she saw on the parchment was coming to life. Claire outstretched her arm once more and snapped her fingers, dodging the bolt that fell from the sky.  
“These are not tricks, Katrine.” Claire stamped out the fire the lighting caused. “They can cause serious damage.”  
Katrine nodded, taking the woman's words to heart.  
“Those runes make more sense now,” she said confidently. “I think I'm ready to try them.”  
“You are not ready yet!” Claire scolded. Katrine nursed a pout. “I want you to study the runes and their translations. If you could alternate between the parchment and the big book of spells; I want you to be familiar with all the schools.”  
Claire poured herself another cup of tea while Katrine plopped back under the tree sighing heavily. Somewhere, there was a loud crash followed by Devlan's laughter. Katrine pulled up her knees and buried her nose further into the big book of spells.

Later, at her house, she lay flat on her old bed while Ba'Lethi braided her doll's hair. Their mother had been in better spirits recently and was folding clothes on Ba'Lethi's hope chest.  
“What has Claire been teaching you?” she inquired as Katrine began kicking her legs back and forth.  
“Nothing fun. It's just lots of reading. I haven't gotten to try a single spell yet and Devlan's already miles ahead of me and he just got started.”  
“He's a Floresian though, isn't he?” her mother asked, frowning at a hole in one of her father's stockings.  
“What's a Florazeen?” Ba'Lethi asked, looking up from her doll.  
“Someone from the Dead Forest,” Nadia replied calmly. She shook out a starched pinafore before hanging it in the wardrobe. “It was rumoured they lived on Avri Ðo hundreds of years ago.”  
“He is.” Katrine sighed heavily. “And magic comes so easy to him. He just stays in Claire's library for hours in the magic section, reading all the books.”  
“Is Claire's library quite extensive?” Nadia asked again, shaking out a pair of short pants.  
Suddenly, Katrine sat up.  
“Mama? May I have a pair of breeches?”  
“Whatever for?”  
“For the summer,” Katrine replied, hardly skipping a beat.“It's much easier to climb trees in pants.”  
“Will you get much time to play down by the river this summer?”  
“Claire always gives us time to play. 'It's part of a balanced learning environment.'” Katrine mimicked Claire's unusual speech pattern and Ba'Lethi giggled.  
Nadia shrugged.  
“I'll see if Pavlos has an extra pair that no longer fit him.”  
She threw the pants back into the basket and left, closing the door quickly behind her.  
“It's lonely here without you Kati,” Ba'Lethi said quietly. The dark-haired girl resembled her sister more and more everyday. Her eyes were a fantastic shade of green.  
She set the doll down and crawled to the head of her bed. She pulled her knees to her chin.  
“I don't like Devlan,” she murmured. “He's too quiet.”  
“He just has to get to know you,” Katrine said, curling up on her bed. The linens were gone-moved to her bed at Claire's, but she curled up anyway and turned to face her sister. “I bet he'll be talking to you in no time.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4 years progress in the Iros household. Pavlos finds romance and a mysterious sword. Katrine and Devlan create a strong friendship that hints on something more. Will Katrine's visions become anything more than just visions?

As Katrine's lessons progressed, so did Devlan's mood. As Everlasting Rains gave into First Blooms, he could be found in his free time at the river with Katrine and her brother, learning how to fish. Devlan had made it through his first Geilish winter, and everything he'd heard about it was true. He was thankful for Katrine and Claire. He knew that without them, and Katrine's generous family, that if he hadn't found Claire when he did, he wouldn't have survived.  
Katrine threw the window open and breathed in the warm spring air. Today was the first day she could change out of her heavy wool dresses into hemp and calicoes. Cotton had been introduced on the mainland of Shaa from Kenshara, but was hard to purchase as the manpower to produce it was too great. Every once in awhile, several bolts of colored cotton would grace Stavros' shelves After closing time, he'd subtract the price of the fabric on his ledger, and surprise his wife with a bolt of new fabric. Perhaps, if her family had been cloth merchants, she would have spent her days in cotton and linen and silk, but her family owned a small general store in the heart of Thelios. Her father had inherited it from his father. Stavros' grandfather had purchased it cheaply when the original owner lost his family in the plague and sold it to move to the mainland.  
Katrine understood the joy her father had when he would rise at dawn to saddle the horses, so it was no surprise that summer when Pavlos announced he'd be apprenticing himself to his father.  
“I'm the oldest,” he announced one day in The Long Days . “It's my birthright.”  
“It's not really,” Katrine fought back, kicking her bare legs out in front of her. “Da could give the shop to anyone of us.”  
“Well, not you.” Pavlos stepped back. “You're a wizard now.”  
“I can be both,” she retorted. “I could run the store and use magic. There's nothing anywhere that says I can't.”  
Pavlos scoffed and threw his line out. Ba'Lethi had joined them on this beautiful spring day and a dark head poked out behind the flowering trees. She was busy braiding apple blossoms together. It was a popular spring headpiece of the young girls of the island, and Ba'Lethi thought her sister, in short pants and double braids needed a hint of girlishness.  
Pavlos interrupted her thoughts: “What do you think, Ba'Lethi?”  
“I'm busy,” she muttered.  
“It should be mine anyway,” he continued. “Da said so.”  
“He did not.” Katrine yelled. She disappeared up a tree, book tucked under her arm. She sighed in exasperation as Pavlos continued to barrage Ba'Lethi, and occasionally, Devlan with questions.  
Pavlos had just turned eleven. It seemed to Katrine, that he turned more annoying as well. Eleven was the age where Geilish children were considered for apprenticeships. In most families, girls were just as likely as boys to be considered. If the firstborn wasn't interested in inheriting the family business, it would fall to the next in line.  
Katrine was not interested in the family trade, but ever since Pavlos had overheard their parents talk about birthrights, and repeated them at every opportunity, she became interested. More often than not, Ba'Lethi would be dragged into the fight. Katrine's black haired, green eyed sister showed no inclination towards magic. Pavlos knew this and would try to rally her to his cause.  
Katrine had taken to having supper with her family daily. Her mother was pregnant again and the house was once again filled with joy.   
“When is Claire beginning lessons again?” her father asked that night over supper.  
“Tomorrow,” she replied happily. “She like to give us breaks. She says we can learn better if we're allowed to play every once in awhile.”  
“Have you learned anything new?” her mother asked, pouring herself and Stephanos a cup of dark tea.  
“I start learning destruction magic tomorrow. Claire says in order to find my strengths, I have to learn everything.”  
Nadia shot Stavros a look across the table.  
“Don't worry, Mama. We're practicing on dummies. Claire won't let us spar until we're older.”  
Pavlos' eyes lit up  
“You're finally going to throw fire?”  
“Probably.”  
“I have to watch!” he announced, standing with such force, he threatened to knock over the chair.  
“Pavlos!” Stavros exclaimed.  
“But Da!” he protested. “I've been waiting for this from the beginning.”  
Stavros sighed loudly. His green eyes darted over to his wife's, who was also searching for his.  
“We will discuss it after supper,” Nadia said.  
“But Mama!” he whined.  
“After supper.”  
When Pavlos and his parents left for the study, Katrine gathered her things to leave for Claire's.  
“May I come too?” Ba'Lethi asked quietly as Katrine reached for the door. “I've never seen magic before.”  
“Sure,” Katrine said, smiling. “If Mama and Da say so. Don't be too disappointed. It can be a bit boring.”  
“I won't,” Ba' Lethi smiled. “Thanks Kati.”

Claire and Katrine stood in the clearing the next day in front of a small audience. Pavlos, Ba'Lethi and Stephanos sat at a distance away, legs crossed, waiting patiently.  
“Katrine, the time has come for you to learn the practical uses of channeling magic. Before we begin, can you list them off for me, and give me a brief description of what they do?”  
“Fiorie: fire. Will destroy everything if the user isn’t careful. Elesio: lighting, storm magic. Ichiya: ice. The coldest of winter.”  
She listed them off, from memory, looking off to the right.  
“Very good.”  
Pavlos yawned. He couldn't understand how magic could be this boring.  
“Devlan,” Claire said, turning to face him. “You've been working on fire for a little while now. Why don't you show Katrine some spells?”  
Devlan nodded and extended his hand.  
“Fiora-ha!” he called. A small ball of flame appeared in his hand.  
The children's eyes widened and Pavlos even gasped. Now this was magic in action! Turning slowly, Devlan faced the bulls-eye. Careful not to lose the fireball, Devlan prepared to throw it. The fire left his fingertips and settled just left of the middle circle. The children on the sidelines clapped.  
“Are you prepared?” Claire asked.  
“I don't think I can do that,” Katrine said sheepishly.  
“Oh don't worry. I don't expect you to know how to do that yet. Let's just work on conjuring fire.”  
Claire stepped in front of the girl, right arm outstretched. Her palm was facing upwards and her fingers were wide apart.  
“Fiora-ha!” she commanded, as a small ball of flame appeared in her open palm. She moved her hand around it, so it appeared as if she were holding onto it.  
“Alright Katrine, now you try.”  
Hesitantly, she copied what she had just seen Claire do. Katrine had used a little bit of magic before-just restoration spells, nothing that could really harm her.  
“Fiora-ha,” she intoned, squeezing her eyes shut. When her siblings at the sidelines remained quiet, she opened one eye. Her palm was still empty.  
“You're commanding the elements,” Claire said. She had formed her ball of flame into an arrow and shot it at the dummy. The exploded with a shower of sparks. “It will not move for anyone. You must be more demanding.”  
“Fiora-ha!” she called. The ball of flame resting in her hand grew so large that she stepped back in surprise.  
“Such power!” Claire exclaimed. She reached out for Katrine. “Be calm child. You have much power inside you and if you are not careful, you could destroy us all.”  
Such knowledge had never been shared Katrine before, and, trying to understand what Claire meant, she let the flame waver in her hand. Her sister hitched in her breath.  
“Concentrate on the magic in your palm,” Claire continued. “How does it feel?”  
“Heavy,” Katrine answered. “And light. And tingly.”  
“Make a fist,” Claire commanded. “Not too tight, just enough to keep the flame burning.”  
She did so. The fire lapped at her fingers but did not burn her. She stared wide-eyed at her fist and slowly moved her fingers back.  
“How is it doing this?” she asked, staring intently at the flame.  
“Magic never harms its user. The more in control the wielder is, the stronger and more destructive the spell will be.”  
Claire to where Katrine stood, hand still outstretched. Taking her hand, she closed her fingers tightly around the flame. Katrine felt it go out.  
“Try it again. This time, see if you can control it outside of your palm.”  
As Katrine started the process again, Pavlos flopped on his back into the grass.  
“I didn't think magic could be so boring,” he announced loudly.  
“Magic isn't always flashy,” Devlan said quietly, slipping out from behind the trees.  
“Where were you?” Pavlos asked as Devlan sat down next to him.  
“Practicing.”  
“In the woods?”  
“Claire lets me practice where I”m the most comfortable. She calls for me when she wants to see my progress.”  
Pavlos nodded. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to the practice circle. Katrine had missed the bulls-eye entirely and instead managed to set the neighboring bush aflame. Claire cast another spell on it, first freezing it and then melting it. He let out a cheer, clapping his hands loudly.  
“I don't think I can practice with them here,” Katrine whispered to Claire.  
“Would you like me to talk to them?” Claire asked.  
The girl nodded. She turned away from them and faced the practice dummies. Claire had fashioned them out of broadcloth and stuffed them with straw. Closing her eyes, she brought out her hand again. She breathed the words, and felt the fire ignite in her palm. Gently cupping the flame as she had seen Devlan do, she opened her eyes, and released the flame. The flame hit the face of the dummy and she squealed in surprise.  
“I did it Claire, I did it!” She jumped up and down and clapped her hands.  
“Very good,” Claire turned from the children. “”Devlan would you like to show Katrine the ice spell?”  
Devlan stood and made his way to the practice circle. Ice was the one basic spell he struggled with.  
“Ichiyaa-ha!” he called and snapped his fingers. It began to snow. “No, that isn't what I wanted!”  
He shouted it at the heavens.  
“Devlan! That's a deviation of the ice spell! Good job!”  
She smiled as he sulked off.

It didn't take long for Katrine to understand channeling magic, a surprise to both she and Katrine. Eventually, her siblings stopped coming to watch her practice, but Pavlos would come over while Claire went to town.  
“You have food at your house,” Devlan said the first time he caught the curly-haired boy standing on a chair, digging through Claire's cabinets.  
“Yeah.” Pavlos kept digging. “But the food here has to be better. It's magic-infused.”  
“No it isn't and Claire will be furious. You're eating our food!”  
“You eat ours,” Pavlos retorted. Devlan paused. The other boy had a point. Just then, Katrine walked up the stairs, a book on magic theory under her arm.  
“Katrine, tell your brother to get out of here,” Devlan whined.  
“Pavlos, what are you even doing here?” She set the book on the table and threw several sprigs of lavender into the teapot for when Claire returned.  
“I'm hungry,” he said, having found something. He pulled a jar of jam from the cupboard.  
“You can eat that at home,” she tried again, but Pavlos had already grabbed Claire's bread knife and had begun slicing the potato bread that was sitting on the counter.  
“Have you been home lately?” he asked, slathering strawberry jam over the thick pieces that he cut for himself. “It's so loud, and Mama's pregnant again...”  
He trailed off and put Claire's cast iron tea kettle on the furthest burner. It took all of his strength and it took both hands to hold onto.  
“Oh...” the blonde's voice dropped. “You're trying to get out of chores.”  
“No. I just want some quiet.”  
“Pavlos,” Katrine crossed her arms and glared at her brother. “I have lessons today. I can't study with you here.”  
The tea kettle had begun to whistle as Claire walked through the door. Pavlos had a crocheted hot pad and was removing the teakettle from the stove. Katrine was standing near the table with her arms crossed and Devlan was next to her trying to take in the whole situation. Bread was buttered on the table.  
“What is going on here?” She set her basket down on the stool near the door. She rushed to where Pavlos had begun to pour the boiling water into the teapot. She looked at the three of them and waited for an answer.  
“I just wanted a quiet place to stay for a while. It's noisy at home, and then I got hungry.”  
Claire took another mug from the hook on the wall and set it on the table. She poured each child a half-cup and then sat down.  
“Pavlos, I only buy enough food for the three of us. I have no problem with you coming over for some quiet time, but I have to ask you not to eat all the food.”  
Pavlos nodded. He had finished his bread and was licking the jam off his fingers. Katrine poured more tea into her mug, and grabbed her big book of magic theory. She shoved it under her arm and walked out to the porch. Perhaps the wicker chair would be more inviting.

Katrine celebrated her ninth birthday with her family in [August] and that autumn, something happened. She dreamed she was on a hill, overlooking the countryside stood a man with a sinister looking sword. Blood dripped from its blade as flames raged behind him. A woman stood next to him arm and arm, and as he turned to kiss her, Katrine thought she recognized him. She sat up in bed, cold sweat pouring down her face. She had gripped the bedspread during her nightmare and it took her a moment to free herself. She jolted out of bed and slid her feet into the slippers by her bedside. She lit a taper and made her way down the hallway.  
“Claire!” she cried, pounding on the bedroom door. “Claire, wake up! Claire please!”  
The door opened a crack.  
“What is it, child?”  
“I've had a bad dream-but I don't think it was a dream.”  
In Claire's sitting room, Katrine told her everything over a cup of camomile tea.  
“I know it's just a dream, but it felt so real.”  
“Have you ever dreamed, felt anything like this before?”  
“Last year,” Katrine sipped her tea. “Before I came here. Right before I fell asleep. I never had it again, I just thought it was a bad dream.”  
Was this a sign of the troubled times, Claire asked herself as the flaxen-haired girl quietly sipped her tea. It couldn't be. Solin mentioned the Sarithi. Could she have seen the future? No one one else was known to have the Gift besides The Four. Perhaps she was working the girl too hard.  
“Katrine, you may read if you find you cannot sleep. Tomorrow you may spend with your family. We shall resume lesson the next day.”  
“Thank you Claire. Goodnight.”  
She turned to walk back up the stairs and Claire watched as the candlelight faded back into the darkness. It was time to contact Solin.

Solin was easy to find most of the time, staying in many of the same towns every time he would visit a place, but, if he was in transit, he was a bit harder to pin down. When they last met, Solin had mentioned he was off the to the Floresian lands of the southeast. He wanted to see what Z'Hadar had planned first hand. She knew he couldn't avoid those brown-skinned women and she focused all of her energy on his most favorite inn of the region. She came tearing through the wall with a large crash. The dark-haired woman turned to see what all the commotion was about, and Solin leaned to one side. His black hair hung loose down his shoulders and into his eyes. He sighed heavily.  
“Claria, could you excuse us for a while?” He placed his hands on her gently curved hips. It was her time to sigh as she slid off of him. She reached for the ratty blanket and wrapped it around her small frame. Claire looked away as Solin fashioned some sort of robe out of the bed sheet. Claria sat on the chair by the table in the corner, drinking cheap ale out of a pewter tankard.  
“Solin, I need you back in Geil.”  
“I'm not due back for several weeks yet.” He looked to the corner longingly.  
“Would you just take your mind off women for two minutes?”  
He leaned against the open window and Claire continued.  
“Katrine just came to me. She said she had a bad dream, but it sounds like it could be something more. I've been feeling rumblings too, closer to home.”  
“Do you think she has The Gift?” Solin asked, adjusting his makeshift robe.   
“I did. I want you to return to Geil with me and examine her.”  
“I will, but tomorrow. I promised Claria a good time, and I intend to stick by my promise.”  
He smiled wistfully at the brown-skinned woman, now cutting a small piece of cheese from the large cheese wheel.  
“I can't argue with that. But tomorrow. I don't want to have to come and find you again.”  
Claire disappeared the way she came and Solin crossed to Claria. As Claire faded away, Solin pushed the blanket off Claria's shoulder and slowly brought his lips to it.

Katrine lay awake, staring at the ceiling as her eyes made spirals on the ceiling. She wanted it to be a dream, but this was not the first time she had seen that dream. Pulling the blanket off the bed, she crossed to the window box. Wrapping herself in the blanket, she pressed her face against the glass. The lights were still on in the house across the river, and for the first time in almost a year, she wondered what it would be like to be home again.

Solin stood outside Claire's cottage the next day, feeling refreshed. His wavy black hair was pulled back into a ponytail and had grayed slightly since the last night. He was still wearing his traveling clothes: tan trousers, a half-opened ruffly white shirt, knee high boots and a soft green waistcoat. He rapped lightly on the door and stepped inside. Claire served peach tea and hazelnuts. Katrine had gone home to her family and Devlan was reading in the clearing.  
“So...about Katrine,” he started, reaching for his cup.  
“Yes,” Claire began. She recounted the events for Solin, who was nodding. He had abandoned his tea completely.  
“Has she had this dream before?” he asked, standing.  
“Yes, sometime last year, sometime before she came to me.”  
“And you think it's divination?” he asked.  
“I do,” Claire replied.  
“Where is she now?” he asked.  
“I sent her home. She's with her family.”  
“I need to speak with her.”  
Solin crossed through the dining room in large strides and seemed to fly out the door. Leaves crunched loudly under his feet as he ran through the forest. He scanned the area, but Katrine was nowhere to be found. He teleported over the river, no sense in getting his new boots wet. He noticed for once that the entire area was quiet. The children must be off to school.  
“We don't know what's wrong with her,” Nadia said when Solin threw the big door open. “She's been huddled in her old room since this morning. She won't talk to me. What's going on?”  
Solin ignored the raven-haired woman and took the steps two at a time. The door was open a crack, and he pushed it open gently.  
“Katrine? It's Solin.”  
She didn't look up. He sat down on the bed. She propped her chin up on her knees.  
“Can you help me?” she asked of the dark-haired man. She wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“Divination is nothing bad, Katrine-”  
“I know what I saw.” she interrupted him quietly. “The man said: 'They're all dead' and the woman next to him: 'Now I can be yours.' But the hill, and the fire. It was our house that burned. And it was my brother who did it.”  
Nadia's face grew white as a sheet. She leaned against the door frame as Solin continued with his questioning.  
“How do you this was your brother; how do you know this is the future?”  
“I don't know. I just know somehow that I knew.”   
Solin glanced up at Katrine's mother, still leaning against the door frame.  
“Nadia, would you mind making us some tea? It may help Katrine think.”  
Nadia nodded mutely, and turned to go.  
“Katrine, divination is a funny thing. It gives us glimpses of the future. Sometimes, we can change them, and sometimes we can't. How you act on them though, is what changes the world, ultimately for better or for worse. Now, what are you crying about? The gift, or the event?”  
She thought for a moment. She didn't know.  
“I didn't know there was such a thing as divination, so I guess it's the event.”  
Solin stood and pulled a chair from Ba'Lethi's desk. He set it facing her, and sat down.  
“Katrine, I want you to focus on the event. What stuck out in your mind?”  
Katrine thought back to her dream. A sinister looking sword, a dark woman The most important thing she remembered, was how strange his blue eyes looked.  
“He looked spellbound. The sword looked evil.”  
“Remember those things,” Solin told her. “You might one day need them.”  
Katrine's mother entered again with dark tea and apple bread. She smiled meekly at her daughter and the young man who claimed he was Solin. He thanked her and turned back to Katrine.  
“Divination only manifests itself in those deemed worthy by the Goddess. If you have begun having visions at your age, the Great Mother has much in store for you, child.”

Katrine trudged back to Claire's alone. Solin had stayed behind, explaining his altered appearance to both she and her mother, and explain her new gift to her father. As she walked through the forest, she thought of heavy things that no child should ever think about. She wondered what other visions would grace her mind, and if Pavlos really was destined to bring chaos into this world. She paused by the stream, slid off her shoes and stockings, and sat down on the bank. She kicked her bare feet in the water and laid flat on her back. Devlan was right, the forest was magical. Laying in a blanket of leaves, the feel of the cool water lapping at her ankles, she could feel the magic in her swell. She closed her eyes and outstretched her arms.  
“Fiorya-ha!” she whispered, her palm igniting.  
“She opened her eyes to see a fireball larger than normal. She smiled and closed her fingers over it. She now understood why Devlan studied outside. She sat up and slid her stockings back on. She buckled her shoes and found the path back to Claire's.  
Claire's cottage had altered slightly in the year Katrine had been there. The exterior and porch were still dark wood, but Claire had started a garden. She had typical things like blisterwort and sage but also things like foxglove and poppies. Katrine and Devlan were not allowed in her garden, but she would use those plants in her botany lessons. Devlan all but ignored his lessons, but Katrine found them fascinating. When she reached her tenth year she could begin studying the art of potion making, along with extended botany lessons on how to make poisons, and how to grow these plants, of course.  
She was so lost in thought she didn't even notice Solin in the sitting room when she arrived. He was smiling and a book was open on his lap.  
“Katrine!” his loud voice boomed off the walls. “You're back! Won't you join Claire and I?'  
She could smell citrus tea and she happily poured herself a cup before sitting down next to Claire.  
“You're right,” she said, stirring a bit of honey into her tea. “I can't be afraid of this. I need to know what to look for and what to do. I don't want that future.”  
Claire smiled and motioned for Katrine to look on the small end table near her. A decent-sized book with a dark green binding sat next to her.  
“This book explains all about the ancient art of divination. While Solin and I agree that must learn by doing, divination is difficult to teach. Everyone who is blessed experiences their visions differently. This book will familiarize you with vision types and how to react. When you are ready, I will instruct you on how to use the visions correctly.”

“It's always 'when you're ready,' Katrine complained to Devlan a few days later down by the stream. She had kicked off her shoes and stocking and was walking amongst the foot stones.  
“But she does teach us when we're ready,” Devlan said, kicking up water as he sat down near the bank. “ We just have to learn how it works first.”  
“But reading about divination is boring,” she wined.  
“Then why are you reading about it?” Devlan asked, smiling when he kicked water up at the blonde.  
“Because Claire said I had to so I could learn how it works.”  
Devlan stopped splashing suddenly and back up out of the water.  
“You have the Divination? Mum said it was forbidden magic, and that's why the gods punished the Flores.”  
“That can't be true,” Katrine continued as the olive-skinned boy searched for his shoes and stockings on the other side of the stream. “Claire and Solin have divination. Besides, the gods didn't punish the Flores. The queen did.”  
Devlan's mouth fell open and he abandoned his search for his missing sock. Shoving his bare foot into his shoe, he glared at Katrine.   
“You're a liar!” He turned on his heel and ran back into the forest.  
“Devlan, wait!” she called after him, buckling her own shoes. “Wait! I'm not lying! I'm not!”  
By the time Katrine had caught up to the dark-haired boy, he had already slipped into one of his moods. He turned to Katrine, hurt in his eyes. He ignored her as she walked up the porch steps. She threw herself onto the couch and screamed into a pillow.  
“Katrine?” Claire was coming from the library and had seen her fall onto the couch. “What's wrong?”  
She closed the door behind her and pulled up a chair from the kitchen. Katrine looked up from the pillow.  
“Devlan said that divination was wrong and that's why the gods punished his people. I told him that's not how it happened. I don't understand what's wrong. I only told him what I learned in that history book.”  
“The Flores are a long-lived race. To many of them, it seems like it just occurred yesterday. To the Flores, the folk tales is how they cope. That is more important than what actually happened.”  
“But you told me that history should always be remembered,” Katrine said.  
“I did. But to someone like Devlan, and his people, folk tales are what help them cope with the truth.”  
She nodded.  
“I'll apologize,” she said, sliding off the couch.  
“You'd best wait until his mood passes,” Claire suggested, bringing the chair back into the kitchen. “Otherwise it will be as if you've never said anything at all.”

 

Pavlos began his apprenticeship at his father's shop in the fall. He would come in for a few hours after school and Stavros would put him to work stocking shelves or taking inventory in the back. When Pavlos was fourteen, he could begin work there permanently, and would be given the option to continue his last year of school. Many Geilish would finish school in year eight, opting instead to continue on in their family's trade, and eventually marry. The ones that continued schooling would have the opportunity to travel to Mìla and study at the Holy College. Many would then join the priesthood, but many would return to their roots as doctors or teachers.  
Stavros found that the boy couldn't concentrate. Oftentimes, near closing, when Stavros had to collect money and make sure the store's ledgers were correct, he would often see a mass of black curls running past his desk. Since then, he discovered balancing ledgers in his study over a glass of bourbon was far easier than trying to manage it all away from home.  
“Da's store is amazing,” Pavlos told Katrine would day while she was trying to study under a cottonwood tree. “He only has me working counting things in the storeroom, but I hope one day that Irìna comes in and sees me behind the counter.”  
Irìna was the red-haired daughter of a miner. Her family had come from the Barbarian kingdom  
in northern Avri Ðo to work in the Geilish silver mine. She was thirteen, and Pavlos was crazy about her. Katrine just shrugged.  
“So she can see you act like an uncontrollable puppy?” she asked, drawing her attention back to her book.  
Pavlos pouted, blushing slightly.  
“Just you wait until there's someone you like,” he muttered.  
Katrine giggled and went back to her book. Boys were so funny at this age.

 

In the months leading up to Katrine's tenth birthday, Nadia visited the cottage. The first week, she brought cloth with her, the second week, needlepoint, and the third week yarn.  
“You'll be ten soon,” she said, propping a black-haired baby on her hip. She smiled when she saw Katrine and reached her fat arms out to her. Katrine smiled and took her sister from her mother. “And it's time you started learning how to be a woman.”  
“But Mama,” Katrine started.”I've got my studies.”  
Iraia began fussing and Katrine handed the girl back to her mother.  
“You'll be a woman some day, and you'll have a family of your own. You'll need to know this.”  
Katrine sighed and fell into the kitchen chair. She looked at the piles of cloth her mother had brought over. Where would she even start?  
“You'll learn a little bit every week, and when you're finished with studies, I want you to practice.”  
Katrine reached for a fabric square. The material looked like fabric her grandmother had used to make her quilts.  
“What should I start on first?” she asked her mother with a heavy heart.  
“The fabric squares,” Nadia picked up a small wooden box with a floral design painted on top.  
“Look here, Katrine.”  
She opened the box and the girl looked inside. Inside were several needles and a thimble. Setting Iraia down, she procured a basket from beneath the chair. It was filled to the top with all different kinds of thread. Underneath the cork spools were large knitting needles.  
“This basket contains everything you'll need. This basket was given me by my mother, and I've been accumulating things over the years that I thought my daughter could use when she reached the right age.”  
Katrine sighed and reached into the basket. The first thread was a heavy, dark thread usually suited for darning socks.  
“Try another one” Nadia said gently, pulling out another spool.  
She wrinkled her nose as she fed the thread through the tiny eye of the needle. She had placed the squares back to back. She had just fed the needle through the fabric when Devlan threw the porch door open.  
“Heya Katrine!”  
“Hi Devlan,” she said quietly, not taking her eyes off her work.  
“Whatcha doin'?” he asked, peering into the basket.  
“Sewing. Mama says I have to learn.”  
“Hello Devlan.” Nadia smiled at him.  
“Oh, looks boring. Well, see ya.”  
He ran up the stairs, and Katrine could hear his footsteps pounding down the hall to his room. He had left a book on the table and her eyes would dart back and forth between the cloth and the book. Nadia noticed this and picked up the book he had left behind. She thumbed through the pages. Katrine scowled and then yelled in frustration. She ripped out the stitches and threw the fabric into the basket.  
“I will never learn this!” she exclaimed.  
“Of course you will. You're smart and you can learn whatever you put your mind to.” She pointed to the open book. “Kati, can you tell me what this is?”  
Katrine scrambled off her chair. Her mother was looking at a book full of runes. Katrine had diligently learning Runic, as it was called in magic circles and she recognized them.  
“These are spells,” she told her mother. “Devlan's learning the second set.”  
“Can you read this?” her mother asked, surprised.  
“A bit. See here,” she pointed to the first column. “These are spell names. Fire, lightning, ice. The second column, I don't know, but it's probably the second part. And here, these are descriptions.”  
Nadia was in awe.  
“We had to memorize them,” she went on. “Claire wouldn't even let me cast a spell until I could say them and spell them.”  
Nadia's heart swelled. She was learning so much. She gathered up her sewing supplies.  
“You won't be needing these,” she held back tears. “You're already so busy with your magic.”  
“Nonsense,” Claire called from her back room. “Keep them. Everyone should learn these. Perhaps Devlan should learn this as well.”  
“I’ll work on this, Mama,” Katrine vowed. “I won't disappoint you."  
Nadia smiled meekly and reached for her daughter. Iraia had found Devlan's winter boots, in desperate need of repair, and tried to lift them. The boot was heavy, and Iraia fell backward. Nadia intercepted her and she giggled.  
“I'll check in with you in a week,” she said, propping Iraia on one hip. “I'll grade it, and show you how to fix mistakes.”  
Katrine nodded, pressing the squares together on the table. She closed one eye, trying to stick the thread into the impossible eye, and Nadia slipped out the door. Staring out into the vast wilderness, she grew somber; her children were growing up around her. 

Katrine turned ten in the late summer, and to her amazement, her mother presented her with several new dresses. The cut was a bit longer, and the colors more vibrant.  
“Befitting of a girl your age,” Claire said with a smile.  
Devlan was watching as each gift was presented to Katrine with wide-eyed wonderment. As she tore the brown paper off, he found he was holding his breath in suspense. Birth-days were celebrated much differently among the Z'Hadrans, no presents wrapped in paper or fruit with cream. Instead, the entire clan met together and shot off fireworks imported from the Jade Empire. Presents were hidden around the settlement and fried cake was served in the early hours of the morning.  
Devlan was shoved uncomfortably between Pavlos and Callias. While he found it annoying, Callias had begun drooling on everything, he found himself slowly warming to her family's accepting ways.  
“What's this?” Katrine asked, holding up a thin red wrap with gold edges.  
“That's a kḫi,” Devlan said. “It's the traditional clothes of my people.”  
“It's see-through.” She held it up to her face.  
“That's because it's just the wrap.” Devlan said again. “There's more in the box.”  
Katrine searched again. This time she pulled out a thicker wrap. It was a deep claret.  
“And that's a dȧs. It's what you wear underneath the kḫi.”  
Ba'Lethi was out of her chair and wrapping Katrine up like an Al'Shaïban mummy before Devlan could even move.  
“Here,” he said, sliding out of his chair. He pushed his way in front of Ba'Lethi and unwrapped Katrine. “You're not supposed to have all these layers, but I think it still might work.”  
When he was finished, he stood back and admired his work. He hadn't worn a dȧsa in a long time, but he still remembered the order to wrap it.  
“Now we just need the kḫi, and you'll be a regular Z’Hadran lady.”  
Katrine smiled as Devlan wrapped the fabric around her. When he finished, her family clapped.  
“Thank you Devlan,” she said, lightly. “I feel so exotic.”  
She slid back into her chair as he slumped back into his.

After presents, her family went to the back porch for fruit and cream and root beer. Devlan slid his way past the group and hid in the orchard. Exotic, mysterious. He had heard those words applied to his troupe all the time. People locked their doors when they walked by, and on more than one occasion, had been called “Zragthi-i otra tiím: the little dark devil”. A rustle through the leaves interrupted his brooding. Katrine appeared, still wearing his dȧs and kḫi. In her hand, she held two wooden bowls and she smiled as she sat down.  
“I saw you walk off and I didn't want you to be forgotten about.”  
She handed him a bowl.  
“I brought you some fruit and cream. Mama didn’t want you to feel left out”  
He smiled meekly and kissed her cheek. Katrine stared awkwardly into her bowl.  
“Sorry,” he said, blushing and pulling away quickly. “I'm surprised you still wore that.”  
“Claire had to help me put it on right. This is an even better present than the books Claire gave me, because I never knew this even existed.”  
“Claire had me look,” Devlan started, still afraid to make eye contact. “I was going to give you mine, since I don't wear it anymore, but Claire said you should have something right and mine just wouldn't do.”  
“You should wear yours on your birthday!” she exclaimed with a smile. “I want to know how you celebrate birthdays.”  
By the time they arrived back at Claire's, Katrine had mostly forgotten about Devlan's disappearance. Katrine had changed back into her birthday dress, the dȧs and kḫi folded and returned to the box. Devlan was humming happily. They stepped into Claire's house to a smell of ginger tea. Devlan grinned; it was the smell of home. Solin turned from the fireplace.  
“Happy Birthday, Katrine!”  
She smiled.  
“Solin! You're home!”  
“I have come from the southern lands of Z'Hadar, bringing both ginger tea and freshly-fried cake. Your present is hidden somewhere in this cottage. You may search for it. The cakes will be waiting for you upon your return.”  
Devlan's eyes lit up.  
“You may help her search,” Solin replied.  
The children ran off and Solin turned to Claire. She offered a chair in the kitchen and before, sitting, he poured tea into a stout, no-handled mug.  
“Those brown-skinned girls prove too much for you again?” she asked in Old Miithosi.  
Solin smiled, and for the first time in many years, Claire thought he looked tired.  
“The Great Mother has told me to turn my eyes towards Tir. I'm unsure the connection between Tir and Z'Hadar, but she claims that both will be drawn to the forefront very soon.”  
“I found it!” Katrine exclaimed from the other room. She ran down the hallway, and plopped the wrapped box on the table. Solin stood, and poured ginger tea for both of them. Devlan happily sat at his little table in the sitting room, legs folded neatly on the pillow.  
“What did you get me?” she asked, sipping lightly on the tea.  
“You'll just have to open it and see,” Solin smiled. “It's something special from Z'Hadar.”  
“Is it another dȧs?” she asked, tearing off the paper from one side.  
“A dȧsa?” Solin questioned. “Oh no. This is something special.”  
Devlan pulled the box away from her and shook it.  
“Hey!” she called, pulling it away.  
“It doesn't make any noise,” Devlan said with disappointment. “It's probably just more clothes.”  
Inside the box was another smaller box made of mahogany and inlaid with rosewood. She untied the burgundy ribbon and opened the lid to reveal two bronze bookends in the shape of elephants. A delicate golden choker inlaid with emeralds were draped across them.  
“Both are for the future,” Solin explained. “One day, you'll have your own house, and library, and these bookends would make for a fine addition to a wizard's library. The choker is the traditional design Z'Hadran women wear on their wedding day. Emeralds signify beauty and luck.”   
“Spasi, Solin,” Katrine said with a faraway tone. Claire gave him a look. He shrugged.  
“She'll need them someday,” he said in the language of the ancient Rōsshian kings.  
“Geilish girls marry young. I'd much rather have her be prepared.”

 

Katrine's birthday ushered in a change in her magic instruction. Claire no longer expected Katrine to memorize the spells before performing them.  
“You're on the second set now,” Claire replied on a beautiful [September] day. “You'll just be learning the deviations of the first spells.”  
She pulled the heavy black book from the shelf and thumbed to where Devlan had been studying several months earlier.  
“Do you see the deviations?” Claire asked Katrine looked over the familiar symbols.  
“This one,” the blonde said. “Ice. It turns to snow.”  
“Very good. How about fire?”  
“Fire is hard because its rune means 'engulfing flame'.”  
“That's right,” Claire said, setting the book down. “It's actually a free-floating fireball. Sheer will can change it into a wall of fire.”  
She pointed to the lightning rune.  
“This one translates into many-colored sparks,” the child said calmly.  
“Very good,” Claire said. “After I make some citrus tea, we will try these in the clearing.”  
Katrine practiced in the clearing, and this time Devlan watched. She had caught up to Devlan, and instead of allowing him to progress further ahead, she encouraged him to stay at the level. He was to take a break from magic, and was instead taught history and arithmetic and literature. When Katrine was ready to practice with livelier targets, she and Devlan would spar.  
Devlan was meant to study a Collection of Al'Shaïban Folk Tales by Ashad Ala'ha, but he found he couldn't concentrate. Devlan found Katrine too distracting, in her blue striped dress and loose blonde curls. He shook his head and tried to focus. The words just didn't make sense. Sighing heavily, he left the clearing.  
“Very good, Katrine!” Claire called from behind the trees. She was gathering pine tree sap for a new potion she had created.  
Katrine saw Devlan leave, and snapped her fingers. Fat white flakes fell from nowhere and she spun around.  
“Very nice,” Claire stepped back into the clearing, basket full of pine boughs. “You didn't even need to shout a command. You should be sparring with Devlan within the week.”

They had just sat down for lavender tea and butter cookies, when Claire's front door swung open. Pavlos stood, dripping wet, on the front porch. He was out of breath, and his hair was pressed against his forehead.  
“What's wrong, my child?” Claire asked, suddenly standing and running towards the door.  
“I fell in the water; I was trying to show Stephanos how to fish.”  
He paused as Claire ushered him into the cottage.  
“We were all sent out to play. Mama said she and Da need some time alone.”  
Claire threw a towel over the boy's shoulders as he continued to stand, dripping on the hall rug.  
“I was going to go back inside to change because I fell off the log but..the door was open..."  
A mug of warm tea was slid into his hands.  
“How old are you, my child?”  
“Twelve and a half,” Pavlos' voice shook.  
“And you've not yet had The Talk?” Claire asked.  
"Is-is that what that was?" He crinkled his nose. "I thought it'd be...different?"

Devlan snickered. Sex was never taboo in his culture. Several families would share a tent, and oftentimes, the mood would strike them. He knew that it happened, and was usually noisy, but not the mechanics. His mother would always send him away when he would start to ask too many questions.  
“What's so funny?” Pavlos asked, coolly.  
“That's it” Devlan responded, stifling back giggles.  
“Why is it so funny?” Pavlos asked.  
“I can't believe you don't know what that is,” Devlan whispered, before exploding into a fit of giggles.  
“What is what?” Katrine asked, unsure of what was being talked about.  
“Sex," he mouthed it. "It's when two adults get together and take off their clothes and then the lady does this,” Devlan let out his best moan and Katrine burst into a fit of giggles.  
“Eeew!”  
“Devlan!” Claire scolded from the other end of the table.  
“What?” he asked as Pavlos' face turned cherry and Katrine choked on her tea.  
“I am never going to do that,” she said firmly. Claire rubbed her temples.  
“I wouldn't make any promises you can't keep. Pavlos, son, when you've finished your tea, you may leave.”  
Devlan and Katrine burst into a fit of giggles, and Claire just shook her head.

Sometime during Katrine's tenth summer, she and Devlan were playing in the orchard. Ba'Lethi and Stephanos were chasing butterflies and trying to take turns holding Iraia who was having more fun trying to launch herself off her brother. The apples had begun had to grow and it was here that Pavlos had taken Irìna.  
After Stavros, Irìna had just so happened to come into his shop. While she read fabric off a list, Pavlos worked up the courage to talk to her.  
“Hello Irìna,” he stammered.  
“Hello Pavlos,” her smile was even more beautiful outside of school. “Do you work here?”  
“Not yet,” he said, looking around the store. “I'm just an apprentice-this is my Da.”  
She smiled at Stavros and he smiled back.  
“Uhhm, can I ask you something?”  
“Of course.” Always with that smile. It made it hard to concentrate.  
“Da, may I be excused for a minute?”  
Stavros just nodded and Pavlos pulled Irìna into the storeroom. It was musty and smelled faintly of mold. She coughed, and crinkled her nose, fighting back a sneeze.  
“I know it's a long way off still, but would you like to dance with me at the Feast of Alorai?”  
“Oh Pavlos, you're very sweet, but why didn't you invite me to the harvest dance?”  
He blushed and coughed uncomfortably.  
“Because they don't let kids dance at that one and I won't be thirteen until Everlasting Rains.”  
“I like you, Pavlos. I'm surprised there's no one else.”  
She kissed his cheek and he blushed furiously. Since then it had been nothing more than holding hands and cheek kisses. Today he was excited, because after a long year of waiting and working up the courage, he was finally going to kiss her. They were lying on a blanket in his family's apple orchard. The summer was in full bloom, and the butterflies, yellow and white and even spotted blue flew around them. Katrine and Devlan hid in the trees, watching them.  
“What are they doing?” Devlan asked from behind a tree. Irìna snuggled closer to the raven-haired youth.  
“Quiet!” Katrine whispered back. “I think something's going to happen.”  
Irìna inched closer. Pavlos' blue eyes grew wide and then slid closed. Katrine and Devlan ran by. They counted to three and threw the bag. Irìna screamed and jumped up. Pavlos jumped to his feet.  
“Irìna, wait!” he called after her as she ran back to the house. He turned to Devlan and Katrine, who had fallen to the ground, laughing. He had tears in his eyes.  
“I can not believe you two! I told you to stay out of sight and leave me alone! Why do you always have to ruin my life?”  
His voice squeaked a bit on the question, and, crying, he ran back into the house. Once the two had stopped laughed, Devlan picked himself off the ground. He brushed off his clothes and giggled.  
“That was worth it.”  
As Katrine picked herself off the ground, she had to agree.

 

Several days before, after supper, Katrine was walking with her sister in the woods when Pavlos ran up to them.  
“Da said I could have a picnic with Irìna in the orchard on Lethsday, so I don't need you two hanging around.”  
“As if we'd want to hang around you and your stupid girlfriend anyway,” Katrine muttered. Ba'Lethi struggled to hold back a giggle. Pavlos threw up his hands.  
“Fine, joke around. But I don't want to see you anywhere we are on Lethsday.”  
When Katrine reached Claire's cottage that night, she immediately told Devlan.  
“We could use enchantment on him,” he piped up. Devlan was excited to learn his new spell.  
“I don't want to hurt him, and you still can't control that spell yet.”  
The boy pouted while he thought of something.  
“Maybe we could make it rain!” Katrine exclaimed.   
“We'd need Claire for something that big.”  
“Oh right. That won't work.”  
They spent two days thinking of ideas until finally on Lethsday, the found the perfect diversion. They had just left Claire's cottage, on the path that leads them along the stream when they came across a skunk caught in a trap. It had been there for some time, as they were able to smell it long before they found it. Katrine's eyes shone with a mischievous glow.  
“This will work!” she said. “Let's go back to Claire's to get a sack.”  
They emptied all of Claire's potatoes from her sack and left them in the cellar. The flour sacks were empty as well, and they cut holes in them before throwing them over their heads. Before they left they grabbed a shovel. They slowly approached the skunk, which had given up fighting and had fallen asleep. Katrine held the sack open on the ground while Devlan carefully slid the shovel underneath the creature. He sneezed and dropped the shovel. The skunk woke up and started spraying while they ran in opposite directions. They hid behind a tree, waiting for it to tire. It soon did and they tried again with the shovel. Devlan hit the skunk hard with the shovel, and it sprayed out again as it died. The children ran away from it once again. He slid the shovel under the skunk and slid it into the open bag. It smelled awful and as Katrine tried to tie the bag, she wondered how long it would take to wash the smell off her hands.  
The sack was heavy and both of them took turns carrying it. They took the long way, around the house behind the grove of winternut trees and it was there they stopped. Irìna had just arrived, and Pavlos was wearing his best clothes. They both snickered when they noticed his hat. It had a wide brim and enough feathers that several species of bird went extinct to make it. It was several years too old for him, and Irìna's whole body shook. She was laughing. Pavlos shifted his weight uncomfortably. And pulled the hat off. She rested her hand on his lower arm and he made a face.  
Katrine giggled as she grabbed the bag.  
“Maybe she'll do our work for us!” she exclaimed.  
Devlan did his best impression of Pavlos as the winternut grove gave way to apples, and they had to stop until Katrine caught her breath from laughing.  
“What are we waiting for?” Devlan asked, he and Katrine a ways back from her brother and his date.  
“I think he's going to try to kiss her, if what I heard him say was true”  
Devlan grinned a grin unlike any she had ever seen before, and picked up the bag with new-found gusto. When Irìna snuggled next to Pavlos, it was all he could do to stand still, and when he finally threw the bag, he laughed so hard his sides hurt.

 

Katrine's mostly uneventful eleventh year gave way into a tumultuous twelfth one. The first change to her twelfth year brought was she was finally allowed to go into Claire's garden. Katrine had taken to potion-making, and while Devlan was teaching himself new spells without the aid of a spell book. Katrine could be found in the garden with a basket in hand, harvesting herbs for potions.  
“What have you got for me today, child?” Claire looked up from her ancient tome.  
“Just the ingredients for a healing spell,” Katrine replied, sliding the basket onto the table.  
“Very well, I will grind them for you. Why don't you work on the fabric your mother sent over?”  
Nodding quietly, the blonde turned on her heel and left Claire's workshop. She picked up her cross-stitch from where she left it, sitting on the steps. She sighed. She was still only half done and she had been working on it for almost a year. As she walked down the hallway down the hallway to her room, Devlan's door slid open.  
“Oh, you're back!” she exclaimed, looking up from her pattern.  
“Will you have time to walk around the stream later?” he blurted out, olive skin taking on a reddish tinge.  
“I'm not sure,” she said quietly. “I have to work on something for Mama, but I might be able to after supper.”  
She smiled a perfect smile and Devlan found that it was suddenly too hot in his room. He threw open a window and fell backward onto the bed.  
Katrine closed the door to her room quietly. The airy curtains fluttered in the breeze from the open window and the sun reflecting off the yellow walls filled her room with a brightness she didn't remember. She sat on her window-box, cross-stitch in hand and gazed out the window.  
***  
She came to him that night, fire in her eyes. Her hands were on him, searching for the string of his long linen pants. He wanted to resist, to say he wasn't ready, but his throat was dry and no words came out. She brought her lips to his, red and full and searched for his tongue. He didn't fight it. As his eyes slid closed, he thought he saw a glint in her black eyes. Her hands found his length and it was all he could do to keep from releasing...  
Pavlos awoke with a start. He bolted upright and looked around the room. Stephanos was sleeping soundly, and that's when Pavlos noticed he was sticky. He threw the covers off of him and discovered that he did, in fact, release. He groaned as he fell backwards onto the bed. He was was out of breath and sweating profusely; his curly hair matted against his forehead. He slid out of his pants and threw them in the basket. He crossed to the washbasin and washed himself before turning to the dresser and pulling another pair of small clothes from the drawer. He pulled his sheets over, and, kneeling on the bed, smelled them. It smelled mostly alright, and he climbed back into bed.  
This wasn't the first dream of this type Pavlos had had, surely, but this one was different. All his other ones had Irìna in them, but this woman definitely wasn't Irìna. The last thing he saw before he fell asleep was a brown-skinned woman with black eyes and red full lips.  
***  
Katrine's potion was ready to prepare by the morning, Claire was boiling water for the dark tea Katrine liked.  
“When will I be able to grind my own potions?” she asked, as Devlan's face grew pink.  
“Soon, my child,” Claire replied.  
“Why do you keep calling me that? I'm hardly a child anymore.”  
“You'll always be children to me,” Claire said wistfully.  
Later, out in the clearing, Devlan was trying to concentrate. Katrine faced him, hair pulled back in a twist, clad in burgundy dress with a white stripe at the bottom that hung to mid-shin. He glanced from side to side and shifted uncomfortably. Claire mistook his shifting for nervousness and consoled him.  
“You've done this before,” he cheered. “She won't hurt you. I'm always here.”  
“That's not what I'm worried about,” he muttered as Katrine prepared to throw her first spell. Fire erupted from her hands and it was all he could do to counter it with an ice spell. He lobbed a ball of light at her, she turned to miss it and it singed her ribbon. A golden glow emanated from her hands, and after a moment, she riddled the grounds with lightning. He turned, then rolled to get away, and shot flame through his foot. She met it with a fire wall.  
After a quarter of an hour, Claire decided to end it. On the way back to the cottage for scones and lavender tea, Devlan tried to take Katrine's hand. She pulled it away.  
***

Pavlos woke up to discover that he wasn't alone. A beautiful woman slept beside him. Her skin was the color of caramel, her eyes, the color of coal, her black hair covering her perfect breasts. She stirred in his arms and that's when he realized they were both naked. Suddenly, her hand was questing for something. Her eyes flitted open and she planted fat, wet kisses on his shoulder.  
“Good morning, my king,” she said, her voice low.  
He groaned with pleasure as she found what she was searching for and squeezed.  
“I trust you've slept well?”  
His eyes were half-lidded as he relaxed against the cream sheets.  
“Thank you for saving me,” she said between kisses.  
He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her long and slow as she rolled on top of him.  
"It was the least I could do,” he responded, voice heavy with desire. He brought his face to hers as her tongue slipped between his teeth, and when they finally parted, she grinned with a glint in her eye.  
“Let me show you how I can thank you for your good deed.”  
Her head disappeared below the sheets. He called her name as he awoke. His hand had balled up in the sheets, and he found himself breathless.  
“I think I just need some air,” he said to himself. He slid on his shoes, and grabbed his flannel robe that hung on a peg by the door. He lit a candle, and threw another log on the fire for Callias and Stephanos and slid out the door quietly.  
He stood on the back porch, running his fingers through his raven curls. He inhaled the crisp spring air in gasps as he stared off into the darkness. He was losing his mind, clearly, and something had to be done. He had just turned around to go back inside, when he thought he heard a voice coming from inside the shed.  
“Help me Pavlos, help me!”  
Puzzled, Pavlos grabbed his candle, and took off through the high grass.  
“Hello?” he asked the shed door.  
He shook his head.  
“What are you doing, Pavlos? You're talking to a shed.”  
“Help me!” a female voice came again through the door.  
“How did you get here?” he asked, shaking his head in disbelief.  
This time, the shed doors flew open and a light bathed the boy in a golden glow.  
“Save me Pavlos! You must save me!”  
“I don't know how!” he yelled. Suddenly, over the golden light, a silver sword appeared before the door slammed shut.  
“Find me!” the voice cried one more time, as Pavlos ran back into the house. “And I will reward you greatly!”

It was mid-afternoon the next day, birds were chirping, Devlan was throwing magic with practice dummies in the clearing. Katrine had retreated to her room, to work on her knitting. Claire was in her workshop, finishing up on several potions she was preparing for market day when a figure threw open the doors of the Iros' shed. Resting on a rock, behind behind the gardening tools sat a silver-plated sword. Pavlos stepped inside to get a better look. Runes were etched into it from the top to the hilt, and the hilt was lined with bronze surrounding a rose-colored center.  
“Help me!” it cried meekly. He turned on his heel and slammed the shed door.

“I found a sword in the back of the shed,” Pavlos was telling his sister during her evening break.  
“Did Da even keep his?” Katrine asked. Devlan stopped practicing and leaned against the porch post.  
“I don't know,” the raven-haired youth continued. “Does he even talk about the uprising?”  
"Just that it was a dark time for Geil."  
“What did it look like?”  
“It was silver-plated, with runes all down the center, with a bronze and rose-colored hilt.”  
“I'd leave it,” Devlan piped up.  
“What?” the siblings said together.  
“The sword. It's quite obviously an illusion, and unless we know what the runes say, it's probably possessed?”  
“Why would you even think that?” Katrine asked.  
“I've studied different kinds of magic, and more often than not, swords with runes are enchanted.”  
“Enchanted, but not possessed,” she argued.  
“It did talk to me,” Pavlos spoke up. Both stopped to look at him. “I know, it sounds crazy. But it did.”  
“Yeah, I wouldn't do it,” Devlan said. “Definitely bad news.”  
“What did it say?” Katrine asked.  
“Help me...”

The dreams had passed, but Pavlos still couldn't sleep. He tossed his curly head on the pillow, but no matter what he did, that voice was still there.  
“Help me, Pavlos! Help me!”  
He got up to get a drink of water.  
“Help me Pavlos!”  
He shook his head after he set his glass in the sink. He padded back down the hall.  
“Free me!” it echoed in his mind.  
He threw himself onto the bed, throwing the covers over his head for good measure.  
“Help me please!”  
“Why must you torment me so?” he demanded of the air.  
“Because I desire to be free.”  
“What's in it for me?” he asked, sitting straight up.  
“Freedom,” the voice replied calmly. “Power. Women. Everything a man dreams of...”  
He stood then and lit a candle. Throwing clothes from the wardrobe and onto the blanket, he rolled it all and held it together. He wore his clothes from the day before: black trousers and high traveling boots, a shirt with ruffled sleeves, a grey waistcoat and a greenish coat that hung to the thigh.  
“What does it take to free you?” he asked as he made his way to the kitchen. He took a heel of bread, some leftover cheese and a cask of wine. Certainly he could make some money somehow.  
“Just say the incantation. I will send it to you!”  
Suddenly, his head was full of words he'd never heard before. He scribbled a note to his family on an old piece of paper with some charcoal from the fire. He took one last look around, he didn't know when he'd return. He walked through the door.  
The door was open for him, inviting him inside. The sword was still on the back wall, glowing ever so slightly. Reaching for it, he repeated the words as the sword instructed. A flash of blue light rushed from the sword and crashed somewhere in the distance. When he touched the sword, everything exploded around him.  
“Thank you,” the voice said, intonation changing slightly. “I'm free.”  
He turned to see the shed was alight. Strapping the sword to his back, he ran off into the darkness.


	5. Untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After her brother leaves, she is left to pick up the pieces. Katrine and Devlan's friendship continues to grow, and she persued by a village boy.

She awoke the next day with a start. Her dreams had been fevered and lucid. She heard a calling in her mind, a shadowed figure, and an explosion. A sword with runes came into her vision they glowed blue and the voice spoke again. Before she awoke, the figure with the sword turned to her, and she knew.

“He's gone!” Katrine slammed her hands on her table the next day.  
“Katrine!” Claire scolded from the stove.  
“No!” she exclaimed. “We told him not to take it and he did anyway. I can't believe it. And the worst part is that I can. This is exactly something Pavlos would do.”  
“Katrine! Sit down!”  
“No Claire, I won't!”  
She threw the dishtowel in her hand over the chair. She knocked over her cup, spilling her morning tea all over the table. She ignored it and took wide strides towards the door. She slammed the door as she left. She stormed through the cleaning, not stopping for anything until she reached the house. She could smell it before she could see it; the charred remains of the shed. Her father, his old assistant Thaddeus and her sister were leaving the remains of the gardening shed. She thanked every god in existence that there was no mountain wind last night, or they'd be cleaning up a lot more than just wood and ruined garden equipment.  
“Kati!” Ba'Lethi exclaimed when Katrine pushed her way through the trees. She ran to the bridge and enveloped in a big hug. “Is he really gone, Kati?”  
“I don't know,” she said focusing on her mother standing on the back porch. Her hands were on her hips, and she held a piece of paper in one hand.  
“Is Mama alright?”  
“I don't know,” the raven-haired girl replied. “She spent half the day crying over the note, and now she's just yelling at everyone.”  
“I'll help you and Da, but I want to talk to her first.”  
“Good luck,” her sister called as Katrine walked towards the house.  
“Do you know what this is?” her mother demanded. She held out the piece of paper. 

Katrine reached for it apprehensively and read.

Took the sword in the shed  
Not sure if I'll be back.  
I love you all.  
Pavlos

“I'm so sorry, Mama.”  
“Why?' Nadia's eyes grew wide.  
“Because I knew about the sword.”  
Nadia furrowed her brows and crossed her arms.  
“Explain.” she demanded. “We don't have a sword in the shed.”  
“It's going to sound crazy.” Katrine started.  
“Nothing surprises me; I have a sorceress for a daughter...” Nadia said bitterly.  
“This isn't about me!” Katrine yelled. “Devlan and I tried to warn him, but he didn't listen. He told us he found a sword in the shed. He asked if it was Da's.”  
“Your father sold his. It gave him too many bad memories. Your grandfather was furious.”  
“I told him. I didn't know since I had never seen Da's. Then he said it talked to him.”  
The look from her mother would have made the gods shudder.  
“I told you it sounded crazy. Devlan said to leave it there; ignore it. He said nothing good could come from it. We tried to warn him, honestly we did.”  
Nadia fell backwards into the wicker chair throwing her head into her hands. Big, fat tears fell from her eyes for the second time that day. As Katrine walked off to help her father, Claire and Devlan appeared through the woods. Ba'Lethi's face lit up; she was harboring a bit of a crush on the Floresian boy.  
“Hi,” she said as he walked by.  
“Hello,” he said, focused on her sister.  
Claire paused and surveyed the area. She breathed in deeply and then spoke.  
“A great evil has been here. This area must be cleansed."  
She drew her arms away from her and closed her eyes.  
“What is she doing?” Ba'Lethi asked her sister.  
“I don't know,” she responded, watching Claire move around the yard. “Claire just does stuff.”  
“This is beyond my expertise,” the older woman announced suddenly. “A priest is needed here.”  
Devlan and Katrine exchanged glances, and Ba'Lethi felt anger rise within her. Claire disappeared suddenly in a cloud of smoke. Thaddeus, Stavros, Ba'Lethi and Nadia turned to where, a moment ago, the old sorceress just stood.  
“Where did she go?” Thaddeus asked. He threw ruined garden equipment in the pile behind them.  
“She does that sometimes,” Katrine explained. “We don't know how she does it, when we ask her to teach us, she just tells us we're too young.”  
Claire appeared suddenly, a priest of Ba'Lethi in tow all clad in blue and white robes. His sandy hair was thinning, probably from too many years spent inside poring over books. He was shaking, most likely from Claire's mode of transportation.  
“Th-there has b-been a g-g-great evil here,” he stammered quickly, encircling the four. “C-could you p-please m-move?”  
Stavros, Thaddeus, Ba'Lethi and Katrine shuffled off to the side as the priest pulled a book from his large sleeve. From the other sleeve, he pulled incense and a box of wooden matches. He set the small book on the ground and lit the incense. Holding one in each hand, he motioned for Katrine to join him.  
“Please t-turn to page No. 127 in the b-book,” he told her. She complied and then stepped back with her family  
“Ba'Lethi-o shri calthari sum” He waved the incense in a half-circle before continuing. “Sta-akthi, kra oa miztho zim.” (Ba'Lethi, mother of all, come to our aid. And cleanse it with your healing power.)  
He picked up the book and read a passage from it. When he was finished, there was a large boom that echoed throughout the valley and then all was calm.   
A shudder ran down her back as the evil that caused such misfortune and sadness left the valley as quickly as it had appeared. It must have been there for a long time, she couldn’t remember the last time she felt this calm. She breathed a sigh of relief.

 

“It s-should be f-fine now.”  
Claire circled once with her eyes closed and arms outstretched.  
“It is clear,” she replied. “Whatever your brother found is dangerous. This cleansing alone has not fully rid the area. I can still feel vestiges; little bits of evil hanging on. In six months, another priest shall return and perform another cleansing rite. Within the year, the area should be fully cleansed.”  
Claire motioned for Devlan to come along and looked at Katrine.  
“I'll return,” she said. “But I'm going to stay here for a while; help with the clean up.”  
“Very well,”Claire disappeared with the Devlan and priest in tow. Unaccustomed to Claire's preferred mode of travel, Stavros shook his head.

Irìna appeared on the Iros' stoop several days later, distraught.  
“I need to understand why he left me,” she cried. “Were we moving too slowly?”  
“It's not your fault, Irìna.” The girl pulled a handkerchief from her large sleeve and blew into it. “Pavlos hurt us all when he left.”  
“We were going to get married,” Irìna announced. “We had been discussing it. Next year, after his sixteenth birthday.”  
Nadia nodded. It had been discussed many times after supper.  
“He had even begun working at the store,” the girl continued. “He had started up a fund. The “Keeping a Beautiful Girl Fund” he called it.”  
Nadia knew this too, but let the girl continue.  
“He mentioned something about a separate wing of the house?”  
“Yes,” Nadia said calmly trying to hold back her own tears. “This house has an addition. You two were going to live in it as long as you needed while Pavlos was working at the store.”  
She stood and hugged the young girl.  
“I'm so sorry. Irìna. I know this isn't easy for you.”  
Irìna let out loud sobs and Nadia pulled her tighter.  
“You would have made a fine daughter-in-law.”

In the summer, Katrine apprehensively began working at the store. Her father needed someone to help fill the void left by Pavlos and Thaddeus demanding too much money, now a family man.  
“It's not that I don't want to pay him.” Stavros complained to his wife in his study the night before Katrine began working for him. “It's just that, as a single man, he understood how much I lost in taxes. He's gone for a year and suddenly demands more money for his wife and child. I have seven children-six now. And his wife can find a job, but she's from Avri Ðo where 'the women are beautiful because they don't work.' I think it’s just an excuse.”  
He poured himself another glass of bourbon and fell into his armchair.  
“I just don't know how to break even.”  
Nadia slid into his lap and nuzzled her nose into his neck.  
“And the money from the Ažvoy family will never come, unless we marry Irìna to Stepahnos.” He chuckled dryly and looked at his wife.  
“We'll make it,” she said. “We always do. What was that my da said about you when I told him we were getting married?”  
“ 'That Iros boy sure is persistent!”  
“And you are. You never gave up!” she kissed him passionately. “Maybe we can go about finding a rich man for Katrine.”  
She drew his face to hers and the candle in Stavros' study went out on its own that night.

Katrine awoke with a start. She had seen Pavlos again, and a woman beneath him, naked and writhing. She was noticeably older than her, twenty years at most, and her black eyes had an unearthly gleam in them. She smiled a devilish grin and when he plopped down beside her, he whispered something in his ear. His eyes, once clear, were now clouded. Katrine slid out of bed and threw on a robe before walking downstairs. Half asleep, she threw another log onto the stove, opening the burner and filling the teapot with water from the water pump in the sink. She reached for the canister of tea on the counter and going through Claire’s spice cabinets, found her jar of camomile. She removed the lid and smelled it to make sure it was right, and added it to the tea. She lit the three-candle candelabra on the table and extinguished her single taper. Her water boiled, and she poured it into the teapot. She couldn't stop pacing and had crossed into the sitting room several times, before stopping to pour the tea into a large handled mug. She took her mug and walked out to the porch. The moon was full and she sighed heavily. Leaning against the railing, she gazed out into the darkness. She closed her eyes and sipped her tea and it was was then that she felt it. The evil that had leached out from when the shed exploded had begun to trickle its way from its source into the woods. Her eyes shot open and she heard a voice: “I have him now. You will never see him again. The Pavlos you knew is gone, never to return...”  
Katrine shuddered, and peered further into the darkness.  
“Was that the sword?” she asked to no one. “Or was that the woman I saw in the vision?”  
She blanched at the thought, and drained her tea. She decided to keep this to herself. Getting Claire involved would be too messy, and it was her brother. She turned on her heel and took one final look over her shoulder before going back inside. Her dreams were fitful that night, jumbled messes of Pavlos and that woman, and incantations murmured in a faraway voice. When she awoke the next day, she felt as she had been hit with a ten-ton weight.  
“Bad night?” Claire asked, holding up the jar of chamomile.  
“I couldn't sleep. Sorry,” she mumbled as she slid onto a chair.  
“I'll be gone for a few hours,” Claire said. “There is something in the woods that must be taken care of.”  
She disappeared suddenly, as Katrine reached for her morning tea.  
“I had another vision last night,” she informed Devlan.  
“Wanna talk about it?” He bit into a corner of bread.  
“Not really.” She dipped her bread into her tea before speaking. “I think I might just work on potions today.”  
“Gathering things from the garden?” Devlan asked.  
“Mostly.”  
His heart sank. He had hoped he'd get to spar today. He'd been practicing less and less after her brother left and he was getting rusty.  
“We need to spar today!” he blurted.  
“What?” she asked. “Why?”  
“Claire's been making me study history since you picked up the internship with your father..”  
“It's not an internship,” she said forcefully. “I just got thrown into this. Unless Stephanos steps in, I inherit the store. And I don't even want it! I have to study to be a good wizard, study to be a good wife, and run a store I don't even care about! I can't do all of this!”  
She stood up, knocking a chair over in her frustration. She slammed her fists on the table, knocking her bread on the floor. She stormed out before Devlan could even say a word. She didn't stop walking until she reached the first little stream. Falling to her knees, tears fell from her eyes. She screamed as she balled her fists. As she cried out months of frustration, Solin slid back behind the trees.  
“Claire-i shra!” Solin exclaimed upon entering Claire's cottage.  
“Claire isn't here,” Devlan said quietly. He was still sitting at the table and a mood was brewing. “She went into the woods.”  
“Spasi, my boy!” Solin said, jovially.  
When he did find Claire, she waved him away; she was too busy with her rituals to acknowledge him, so he turned on his heel and walked back to Katrine. She was splashing water on her face and sighing heavily.  
“Hello Katrine.”  
She turned, surprised to see the old man standing before her. She forced a smile and fought back a sniffle.  
“Hello Solin.”  
“You don't need to pretend you're alright. I know what happened here.”  
“You do?”  
“Your brother is gone. Claire is furiously trying to cleanse this area without the aid of a priest.”  
“The evil sword-whatever it was spoke to me.”  
“What?!” he was incredulous.  
“Pavlos -before he left, said the sword talked to him, told him to free it.”  
“Hmmmm.”  
“And I've begun having visions again.” Katrine blushed to her roots. “I had one last night with Pavlos, and some-some woman.”  
Solin noticed the girl's apprehension and warmly took her shoulder.  
“It's alright child. If you're uncomfortable, you don't have to tell me.”  
Her blush subsided and she took several deep breaths.  
“A woman's voice spoke to me last night. I was out on the porch-the vision woke me up and I made some tea. I came out here to think. The voice in the darkness spoke...almost taunted me.”  
“Thank you Katrine. I will use this information and search around. How are you feeling?”  
“Fine, I guess. I've had to take Pavlos's place at the shop, and I'm not happy about it.”  
“You're doing your father a great service.”  
He began walking.  
“I know.” She joined him. “I'm just not very good with it, and Pavlos was so excited...”  
They walked like that for a while, Katrine pouring out her heart out while Solin listened quietly.

The summer turned to fall, and slowly, the sting left by Pavlos had begun to heal. With the fall brought new changes to Katrine's family. Nadia was pregnant again, and Katrine once again, found herself with a new wardrobe. Geilish girls wore ankle-length dresses and shoes with a slight heel. Their heads were covered with hats adorned with silk roses and ribbons attached to them. Hats with bird's feathers was a sign of adulthood. They also began wearing stays, and Katrine had trouble adjusting to this new wardrobe change and often yearned for the days where she and her brother would climb the big willow trees down by the river.  
Fall turned gradually into winter, as it does, and soon attention was being turned to the winter festival.  
“Can I help with the cookies this year, Mama?” Ba'Lethi asked one night after Katrine returned from the store.  
“Of course dear,” her mother replied.  
Katrine sighed. This would be the first winter where she couldn't help her mother.  
“We're coming along nicely, Kati,” her mother had said one day after examining her cross-stitch. “But there's not enough time for you to come over for lessons? Why don't you leave them here after you're finished with them?”  
Katrine had complied, and every few weeks, she'd drop them off, before working the evening shift at the store. Even the nights at the shop had been strange lately. Every once in awhile, a man with brown hair would come in, look around, chat with her father, and then leave. He resembled a nobleman from Shaa judging by his sharp profile and fancy dress. Once the weather dropped below freezing, however, he was not seen again.  
The Winter Festival was a time of celebration to Alorai, the dual goddess, she who brings life and death. Her presence was felt nowhere else than it was on Geil. Sometime in midwinter, on the night after the Solstice, the stalls in the market would open. There would be ice sculptures, hot cider, cookies and other goodies, and even a skating pond. The school, on break for the long winter holiday, would usually sponsor a dance. It was held at the city hall. The mine ceased all operations, and it would not reopen again until the festivities came to a close.  
“Skate with me?” a boy with hazel eyes and mousy brown hair asked Katrine shortly after she had arrived.  
“Why? I don't know you.”  
“I'm Mathias,” he stuck out his hand. She shook it tentatively.  
“I'm Katrine.”  
Her mother nudged her.  
“Why don't you enjoy yourself?” she whispered. “Don't worry about us.”  
She took his hand apprehensively and he squeezed it. He gave her a smile, while not bad, showed several crooked teeth. She glanced back at Devlan who was fuming. Ba'Lethi was reaching for his hand.  
“Aren't these sculptures amazing?” Mathias asked, stopping in front of one titled: Alorai's Triumph Over Kursha.  
“They're really good this year,” she said lamely as he dragged her onto the next one.  
“Solin Visits the Magus Claire,” Mathias read off. “Surely you've seen that mysterious looking lady here? People have seen her in the market-she has two apprentices with her. One is a local girl, and the other, they say she found as a cast-off from a traveling show.”  
She wanted to scream. Is this what everyone in town thought of Devlan?  
“I think I've seen her around...,” Katrine lied. “But I don't know anything about her students. She's never come into the store.”  
“Oh that's right, you work in the 'Iros and Son' shop,” he said. “Shame about the son. What is this one now?”  
“'Ba'Lethi, the Great Mother of All.' Seems misplaced at a winter festival.”  
“It does, doesn't it?” Mathias said, noticing the flowers. “Well, it's religious. Religious pieces always get more points.”  
Katrine nodded. He was right, the judges always gave the religious ice sculpture the highest marks every year. Suddenly, Ba'Lethi's flower moved and she gasped.  
“What's wrong?” he asked, his hand on her back. She stepped forward. Suddenly he was too close.  
“Oh it's nothing. I just thought I saw something.”  
His hand was still on her back, and he turned her towards the hot cider stand. She threw her head over her shoulder to see Devlan, in the middle of the square, making the sculptures dance. Mathias had gone ahead, to order two ciders and she clapped.  
“Hey Kat,” he asked, turning from the booth. “Did you want cinnamon in your cider?”  
She made a face. What a disgusting nickname.  
“Uh one, I guess,” she said, trying to stifle her laughter.  
Devlan saw her smile and he stopped, moving the statues back to normal. The boy she was with turned around and he plopped down on a bench. They walked over to an evergreen, adorned with candles and silver ornaments. He kicked a mound of snow.  
“How's your cider?” Mathias asked with a glint in his eyes.  
“It's good. Thank you Mathias.”  
He smiled again. She tried not to look at those teeth. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, staring at the tree when he spoke again.  
“I haven't seen you at school. Are you new?”  
“I've lived here my whole life,” she said. “I'm just off studying elsewhere.”  
That answer was good enough for Mathias, who just nodded and shifted on his bench uncomfortably.  
“The tree looks nice this year.” Katrine desperately tried to break the silence. “Much better than last year.”  
“That's because they let Brodus the drunk decorate,” Mathias said bitterly.  
“Really?” she asked.  
“No, but adults have no originality. It'd have been better better if Brodus really had decorated it.”  
Katrine giggled, thinking of last year. It had been unseasonably warm, and snow didn't fall until mid-Long Nights. That left the committee several weeks to plan the whole festival. The local artist Alexei was too busy with the ice sculptures to decorate the tree, so they found a local mother to help decorate. It was awful. Mathias mistook Katrine's laughter for genuine interest and slid closer to the pretty blonde.

 

Devlan was trying to have a good time with Katrine's black-haired sister and failing. After the incident with the statues, she slid down next to him. She smiled, looking so much like her sister that he very nearly lost it.  
“I'd just like to be alone right now.” He stared at his feet and wished he could turn invisible.  
“Forget about her,” Ba'Lethi said with a weak smile. “Mama gave me some money.”  
Devlan continued to stare at his shoes. If only she would go away!  
“Then why aren't you spending it?” he asked sullenly.  
“I thought you and I could spend it.”  
Devlan jerked up suddenly and found himself looking into deep green eyes.  
“We could go skating! Or eat fried cake if you'd rather have that.”  
She tugged at his hand and dragged him off towards the stalls.

 

Katrine was having no better time with the brown-haired boy and his self-declared date. They had now stopped at the stall that was all the rage with the children. From one of the booths they would buy a cup flavored shaved ice to warm milk. They would then eat the ice as fast as possible and then sip the milk. Both were noticeably too old for this, and Katrine noticed Mathias spent a lot of time chatting up the pretty brunette who worked in the booth. She sighed and looked around for Devlan. Maybe she could take him skating instead.  
“Why didn't you just ask her to go with you?” she asked Mathias. She was still looking for Devlan.   
“Because I wanted to go with you.”   
He smiled, and Katrine found it hard to take him seriously. She rolled her eyes and let him lead her to the rink. She couldn't fault him, she supposed. Boys' attentions tended to wander sometimes.  
She sat on the frosty bench, pulling her long skirt up slightly to strap skates onto her boots. Mathias returned with blades slung over his shoulder and two steaming mugs in his hand.  
“Peppermint tea,” he said with a sly grin. “The black haired girl over there said it was your favorite, so I bought two!”  
She looked in the direction he motioned to and saw her sister standing in line with Devlan in tow. She smiled weakly; he seemed to be having a good time. She slid onto the ice with some difficulty- last year she hadn't gone skating and it took her a while to get used to. She wobbled, waving her arms back and forth for balance and Mathias slid behind her, gently grabbing her hips to keep her from falling. She blushed several shades of red and giggled out of embarrassment.  
“Spasi M-Mathias,” she stammered. His hands lingered on her hips, she looked around, noticing everyone else skating in a similar fashion. Placing her hands on his. they skated from side to side. Katrine looked across the ice for familiar faces; a glimpse of red, she turned her head. Irìna, skating several feet from her, her red hair almost all stuck into her cap was pulling away from a boy with dark wavy hair. He smiled and pulled her back to him and as their lips met, they were lost in the crowd.[rework order] Mathias rested his chin on her shoulder, since she was a bit taller, and she pulled away. She stood in front of him and turned to face him, hands still in his.  
“I still have forty gaels left,” he said. “If you wanted anything else.”  
“Where did you get so much money?”  
“The miners get paid a bit extra for the holiday when the mine is closed. Da saves it and any other bonuses to give to us kids over the holiday.”  
“Does your mama work?” The words just tumbled out of her mouth before she could stop them.  
“She's a clerk for the bank. There's twelve of us kids, and more than enough of us older ones to watch the younger ones.”  
Katrine wouldn't admit to anyone that she was enjoying herself. Mathias, while unaware of how properly approach a girl to ask for a date was trying very hard, and he was overall pleasant to talk to. She even forgot about Devlan for a while. 

 

Devlan hadn't forgotten about Katrine. Ba'Lethi was trying her hardest to ensure Devlan's enjoyment; however, he'd keep throwing his his head back in an attempt to see how much fun the blonde was having.  
“Here Devlan, I'll show you how to skate.” Ba'Lethi pushed him out onto the ice. He slid a ways, waved his arms, unable to catch his balance, and fell hard to his knees. He winced when his knees hit the ice. Ba'Lethi reached for him, and he turned to face her with tears in his eyes.  
“No! Don't touch me!” He pushed her hand away.  
“I'm just trying to have fun!”  
“Go back with your family!” he cried. “Just leave me be!”  
He crawled over to the edge and sat in the snow. Bringing his face to his knees, he sobbed. Ba'Lethi stood at the skate return, fighting back tears.  
“No,” she said aloud. Several people turned to look at her. She stepped out of line. She was going to have fun anyway, despite him. She slid onto the ice, looking for her sister. It was mid-day, and the festival was in full swing. The rink was full of skaters, young and old; full families. She caught a glimpse of Katrine's shawl, navy blue, but it disappeared into the crowd before she could say anything.

 

Katrine sat on the bench, untying her skates. The leather thongs were easier to tie than untie, and she had to slide off her gloves, the cold biting at her fingers. Mathias returned with a mug of hot chocolate grown in the jungles of Z'Hadar. He smiled and sat down next to her.  
“Let me get that,” he said, fingers nimbly untying the leather.  
She mumbled a thank you and reached for a steaming mug.  
“I've never had this before,” she blew on it carefully before sipping it slowly.  
“Apparently it's new,” Mathias repeated what he hear at the stall in his best teacher's voice. “It's cocoa, harvested from a plant that grows in Z'Hadar. It's mixed with warm milk.”  
“Ohhhhh,” Katrine replied, taking another sip.  
Mathias leaned in, hoping for a kiss. When he didn't receive one, he slumped back against the bench.  
“This is really good!” she exclaimed.  
“It is, isn't it? I honestly wasn't sure what to expect. I thought it might be like coffee.”  
Katrine made a face. Coffee had appeared in Geil sometime last year. It made its grand premiere at the festival last year. It hadn't returned. She wondered briefly if she was Mathias' date for the day or for the whole festival.  
The festival was three days long. She wondered how she was going to keep his attention for three days.  
He walked her back to her family once he ran out of money.  
“Thanks Kat.” Again with that nickname. “I had a great time with you.”  
He leaned in, his lips puckering slightly.  
“Me too. I'll see you sometime soon, yeah?”  
Her eyes darted down to where Mathias was standing.  
“What are you doing?”  
“Trying to kiss you,” he said.  
“Why?”  
“Because that's what boys do to the girls they like”  
“But I don't want to kiss you.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because I don't. You're a nice boy, Mathias, but I just don't want to. I'm sorry.”  
She smiled for his trouble. He turned on his heel and walked back into the crowd, muttering about money wasted.  
“Ugh!” She threw her arms in the air and searched for Devlan. She found him by the hot chocolate booth. He was leaning against the booth, sulking.  
“Devlan i-shra!”  
“Katrine!” His eyes lit up. “I'd been looking everywhere for you.”  
“Sorry. Mathias dragged me everywhere. It's like he's never seen this festival before. You look cold. Why don't I buy us a hot chocolate?”  
She smiled as she stood in line next to him.  
“Mathias wouldn't let me pay for anything, and after all that, he tried to kiss me.”  
Devlan's mood grew dark again. Katrine noticed this.  
“He didn't- he just tried to. I told him I didn't want to.”  
Devlan wondered how she would react if he tried to kiss her. He tucked that question away for later.  
“Have you ever had hot chocolate?” she asked, fumbling for the change in her pocket. Devlan shook his head.  
“It's good. Not at all like the coffee last year.”  
“That's because you didn't prepare it right.” Devlan's mood finally snapped and words poured out of him. “It's not meant to be prepared the way it was last year. You take the coffee, add a bit of milk and some sugar. It's drank out of a small cup with cake or biscuits. It's not to be drank strong or at the interval it was.”  
“Maybe I'll have Solin look for it on his travels,” she said happily. “And you could prepare it for us.”  
She smiled and slid her hand around his and squeezed. Shivers ran up his spine. She stepped up to the counter, still hand in hand with Devlan and counted out the change.  
“Two, please.”  
“Five gaels,” the middle-aged woman behind the counter said. Her eyes held a twinkle that adults usually had when they were talking about something they expected children to know nothing about.

They were on their way toward the exit when Mathias appeared out of nowhere, taking the two by surprise.  
“Why are you here?” she asked with annoyance in her voice  
“No girl should ever have to walk alone.” He smiled and reached behind her, wanting to pull her closer.  
“Mathias, what are you doing?” she asked when his hand touched her hip.  
“Sorry,” he muttered, bringing his hand back.  
“Don't you have another girl you're ignoring to walk me home?”  
“Andria?” he asked. “She was going to go back home with her family. You were walking back alone.”  
“It's not far...” she started.  
“No girl should ever have to walk alone,” he repeated again. “Especially pretty girls.”  
Devlan watched helplessly as the boy from earlier slid in front of him and guided Katrine off to the left. He wanted to speak, to tell Mathia what he really thought of him, but his throat dried up and the word disappeared on his tongue. Maybe he should follow them, to make sure that one didn’t try anything.  
Katrine remained silent, breaking the silence only by crunching her feet down into the snow. Neither of them had brought snowshoes, and the snow had begun to drift outside the city.  
“So what sort of things do you like to do for fun?" she asked. She hadn't wanted to ask him anything but the silence was deafening.  
“There's twelve of us, as I've said before,” he began. “And between that, we don't get a lot of time to ourselves. Da wants me to be a miner, like him and Mama thinks I'm smart enough to be a doctor. Or maybe a clerk. I'm not sure, but I do a lot of homework. My parents are already making preparations with the Holy College in Míla about scholarships.”  
“But surely you have free time after your studies.” She urged him on.  
“I have a few friends,” he said again. “Tomai just got an apprenticeship with a milliner, Nikkos began working for his father, and Vasilis left for the city. Nikkos' family have a winternut orchard, and on the seasons where nothing would grow, we'd climb the older trees. They can get pretty big.”  
Katrine nodded.  
“But now we're mostly too busy, but I'll fish down by the river on the weekends. How about you?”  
“I don't have much free time either. I've had to take up my brother's place in my father's shop, and my mother has me sewing cross-stitch and learning how to make quilts. Mama doesn't work- our house used to belong to a farmer, and he had an orchard, both apple and winternut. Between tending to the trees, and gardens and other things, and my brothers and sisters, it's a full job.”  
“You said you went to school somewhere else.”  
She could see the hill in the distance. Almost home. She breathed a sigh of relief.  
“Are you religious?” she abruptly changed the subject. Magic had been slowly dying out in Geil, and some people felt it should stay that way. She didn't want to take any chances.  
“Why?” he asked.  
“You mentioned something about the priesthood. I thought only the extremely pious would consider their children for the priesthood.”  
“I'm not, but I feel that my parents only want the best for me. If they want me to be a priest, then perhaps I'll be a priest of Ba'Lethi.”  
He chuckled uncomfortably, and Katrine suddenly stopped.  
“My house is just over this hill,” she said, turning to him. “Thank you for walking with me.”  
“Let me walk you to the door, at least,” he suggested.  
“It's quite a ways yet.”  
He was certainly persistent, she had to give him credit for that, but she wished he would just leave her alone.  
“I don't mind,” he smiled and slid his arm between hers. She pulled her arm away.  
“Mathias, listen.” She stopped and faced him. “You like me, but I don't like you. I'm sorry. Go back to Andria, enjoy yourself. I'm sorry.”  
He turned on his heel and trudged back through the snow. Katrine stood at the foot of the big hill, and as he faded into the blackness, she couldn't help but wonder if she'd made a mistake.

Devlan sat with Katrine in the clearing the next day, practicing his Geilish. Katrine sat leaning against a tree, legs outstretched. She wore a fitted blouse and breeches with suspenders. Her feet were bare and her hair was plaited together in the back. Claire had arranged it, so, instead of testing Devlan in her own faulty Geilish, Devlan would practice with a native speaker. Katrine thought he was doing a fine job for starting so late.  
“How was the dance?” he asked stiffly. The structure of questions was unlike his native language, and Claire suggested that he work on those frequently.  
“Stop asking me,” she replied, a bit too fast. “I shouldn't have gone.”  
“I'm sorry,” he said. He slid closer to her, crossing his legs.  
“It's alright. I only went because my parents told me too. I don't understand what's going on with them lately. Ever since Pavlos left, it seems like they're just trying to get rid of me-marry me off to some farmer's son or something."  
“You think that?” he asked.  
“I've heard them in the study after supper. Da's losing money by keeping Thaddeus. I don't know why it's so hard to make money here. Maybe it's the location.”  
“Why can't you just take over the market-er store?” Devlan asked. The two words were similar and he frequently confused them.  
“Because I don't want it,” she said it so matter-of-factly that it surprised him. “I'm not that good at it. Pavlos could remember where everything was and Da was teaching him how to keep track of the ledgers and how to order supplies. I'm not good at any of that stuff.”  
Devlan was silent for so long that Katrine through he had grown bored.  
“We can talk about something else if you'd like? How long does Claire want you to practice with me?”  
“As long as I felt comfortable, she said. Did you want to work on the Tongue of Kings together?”  
“Maybe later.” She stared down at the grass. Everything seemed so complicated, and it wasn't fair! If Pavlos had just stayed, none of this would have happened. For the first time in her life, she despised her brother. She slid out from underneath the tree and flopped onto her back with a heavy sigh. Devlan laid down next to her in the soft grass.  
“All of this would have been easier if Pavlos had just stayed here. We haven't even received a letter. If I ever left home, I'd send a letter out. Da and Mama would want to know where I was.”  
“Katrine?” he asked, using the improper prefix. She wrinkled her nose at his mistake. “What do you think you'll do after Termogran?”  
“Termogran?” she sat up so quickly she got dizzy.  
“Don't you know? Claire's sending us to Termogran, if our appeals go through.”  
“Appeals?” Katrine knew nothing of this.  
“Yes,” Devlan continued. “When a student reaches age fourteen, the tutor is required to put in an appeals with the Council of Aisling. They decide who to allow in. If you fail the appeals, you can keep applying If someone doesn't have a tutor, they'll let them in whenever their country starts school."  
“Why fourteen?” she asked.  
“We have to be registered with the Council of Aisling. We may not even need to take any classes-Claire's a great teacher.”  
“What will you do after Termogran?” she asked him in Kingstongue.  
“I haven't decided. I may travel. I don't like staying in one place too long.”  
“Maybe I'll teach for a while,” Katrine said. “That could be exciting. Claire says I've got potential. Do we have to do something with our magic?”  
“What, like marry other magic users and preserve the line?”  
“No, like teaching magic or potion marking or something.”  
“I don't think so? Maybe ask them when the time comes?”  
Devlan shrugged and Katrine laid back in the grass. As she closed her eyes to doze in the sun, another vision appeared before her eyes: a crossroads with two signs, one said Termogran, the other was obscured by years of dirt and rain. Under it stood what looked like an older version of her, blonde hair pulled tightly up to her head, long pale green dress, dragging lightly on the dirt road, holding a blond baby with curly hair on one cocked out hip. Smiling happily, she turned under the dirty sign and disappeared into the distance.  
She opened her eyes and stared at the clouds. When she closed her eyes again, the image was gone.  
“I don't hear talking out there,” Claire called, a plate of orange cookies in one hand, and a teapot in the other.  
Both Katrine and Devlan had fallen asleep, heads together. Claire smiled. It had been a few busy days and she nudged them lightly with her foot.  
“Tired of talking?” she asked, setting her plate on the ground and sliding the small table out from under the crook of her elbow. She then set the plate onto the table, with the cups and teapot as Devlan and Katrine slowly rose.  
“I must have dozed off,” Katrine slipped back into common tongue. “I'm sorry Claire. We were practicing- Devlan's improved quite a bit. We didn't get a chance to work on Kingstongue.”  
Claire poured both of her students a cup of tea. They would leave her soon, she knew, but they would be in capable hands.  
“Well, I suppose now is as good a break as any,” she said, motioning to the orange cookies. “You both have improved nicely; both in magic and magic. I will be ready to send you off to Termogran next year.”  
Katrine beamed.  
“How will I know if I've been accepted?”  
“You will receive a letter. When this happens, your training with me will cease.”  
“We've learned a lot, thank you Claire,” Katrine replied with a smile.  
“Your lessons aren't quite over. Why don't you both step into the sparring circle?”  
They both scrambled to their feet and ran to where the dummies sat. They faced each other, and Katrine cast the first spell-fire. Devlan countered with an ice ball. It exploded into a flurry of snow. Katrine snapped her fingers and lightning rained down from the sky. Devlan sidestepped once, twice and waved and hand in front of his face. A whitish-blue barrier appeared around him and he threw a beam of fire toward her.  
“You can't cast restoration!” she yelled at him.  
“Why not?” he yelled as she backward to the nearest tree.  
“Because I'm not actually trying to hit you!”  
“You came close!”  
Katrine lobbed a chunk of ice at him in frustration and snapped her fingers. A floating light appeared, circling Devlan.  
“Illusion? Really?” he called as the light exploded into tiny stars.  
“I can cheat too!” she yelled as lighting came dangerously close to hitting him.  
Claire had observed these interchanges between her students for several years, and knew that they were mostly harmless. She had seen many students hurl insults at each other in addition to spells, but this was beginning to get out of hand. She was about to step in when there was an explosion. A heavy branch from a nearby oak tree had been split; most likely from Katrine's bolt of lightning. Devlan teleported before the branch fell and ended up next to Katrine.  
“Fair's fair. I won't cast restoration anymore!”  
Katrine blinked, mind still registering what had happened.  
“Devlan! I'm so sorry! Are you alright?”  
Her hands were on his face, checking for singes and scars. He could smell the soap she used and balled his hands into fists, shifting his weight uncomfortably.  
“I wasn't aiming for the tree! Honest! It was supposed to crack somewhere behind you.”  
“You let your emotions get the best of you,” Claire admonished, checking Devlan one more time for any injuries. “That's when magic can be the most dangerous. Until you can grasp that, both of you will have me as a sparring partner.”  
“I'm sorry, Claire,” Katrine started.   
“Don't be sorry. Just don't make that mistake again.”

Devlan and Katrine were walking along the northern coast a few days later. Claire's temper had subsided, as it usually did, but they still were not allowed to spar together. Claire was needed in a remote village along the northern coast of Geil, and for the first time since Katrine, she moved her cottage. It was only temporary, just for the weekend, but Katrine was determined to enjoy this change in scenery. The snow drifted a bit higher on the cliffs on the northern coast, and Katrine and Devlan fought the winds to climb the high drifts.  
“What are we even doing here?” Devlan asked, shivering as a bitter north wind whipped snow around his slender frame.  
“I may never see the northern coast again,” Katrine responded gleefully.  
“I don't know why Claire can't come here in the summer.”  
“I thought she went where she is needed?”  
Devlan sighed heavily.“We should keep moving.”  
He started without her, his snowshoes crunching lightly on the densely packed snow. She didn't know how long they had been walking when suddenly, the cliffs gave way to a giant ship. It appeared to have been frozen on the coast for quite a while.  
“This is a Z'Hadran ship,” Devlan said with a sense of wonderment. “It must have blown off course.”  
They inched closer to it.  
“What would the Z'Hadar want with this forsaken island?”  
“Hey!”  
“No offense, but the Z'Hadar wouldn't look twice at this island. It has nothing to offer them.”  
“How long has it been here?” she asked.  
“I'm not sure. You want to check it out?”  
She was already unfastening her snowshoes.  
“Yes.” She smiled.  
The ship ran aground in several feet of water. The northern shore was rocky, and in later years, a lighthouse would be erected. The walk from shore was frozen deep several feet out. While Devlan was searching for an opening on the port side, Katrine found an opening on the starboard side. It was just large enough for her to squeeze into. Sucking in her breath, she slid between the boards. It was black as pitch inside, and she threw a light spell out above her. The room smelled strangely of rotting wood and decay. She thought that she saw something in the corner of the room. Inching closer, she tripped on something and came face to face with the empty eyeless gaze of a skull. She yelped. Terrified, she scrambled back to the entrance and frantically kicked at the boards to make the entrance larger. One of the boards shattered, wood splintering around her. She yanked at them furiously until the nails gave way and she threw the boards aside. Light filled the hole and bathed the room in a whitish winter glow. Katrine surveyed the room and hitched in her breath. The room was full of skeletons. There were several laid over a table, ratty cards still in their hands. The one in the corner, the one she had very nearly fallen into, was still holding onto a stringed instrument, nearly rotted away. There were others lounging as if they had just wasted away while asleep. Across the room, near the table was a door. Pushing the spell ahead of her, she walked to it. Carefully, she opened it as another skeleton fell into the room. She screamed.   
“Devlan!”  
Her voice echoed through the empty room. The light spell situated itself in the middle of the room and as her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, she saw it. Rows of hammocks and piles of bones on the floor. She turned on her heel and tripped on the skeleton that had fallen into the doorway. Her arms flailed out as she fell and caught on the door. She fell to her knees. The spell fainted as she stood and ran back outside.  
“Devlan!” she called.  
The boy had found a way onto the deck and was trying to find a safe way below deck. When he heard Katrine's voice somewhere behind him. He turned and saw her standing near where they left their snowshoes behind.  
“Katrine? Is everything alright?” he called, running toward the edge of the deck. “Did you find an entrance?”  
“I did, but I wouldn't go that way.”  
“Why not?” he called down.  
“I found the crew.”  
He shuddered. “Oh. I found a way up over here.”  
He walked to the port side and motioned to the ladder. The ship, The Gali Ard was a galleon and Katrine had to jump to reach the ladder. The ladder swung back and forth from the force, and she closed her eyes.  
“Take my hand!” Katrine opened her eyes to see Devlan's outstretched hand. She grabbed it, and he pulled. He tripped on fallen rigging from a slowly collapsing mast and let go. She yelped, as she lost his hand and grasped at the boards, desperate for a handhold. She caught part of the railing and pulled herself up. Devlan was sitting tangled in ropes when she finally crawled up over the side.  
“I’m beginning to have second thoughts about this.”  
“Me too,” Devlan said, trying to get free, but further tangling himself.  
“Here, let me help you.”  
“Do you know anything about ships?” Devlan asked.  
“Of course not,” she said. “I just thought it'd be easier if someone not tangled up tried it.”  
Katrine eventually freed Devlan who was so thankful, he threw his arms around her. It was then she realized that she didn't mind it too much. Devlan pulled away almost as quickly as he had embraced her and coughed uncomfortably.  
“Should we do some exploring?” he asked, a blush slowly creeping up his already rosy cheeks.  
“May as well,” she said with a laugh.  
“I don't know how sturdy the steps will be, but there's a door right there we can try,” Devlan suggested.  
The windows on the door were broken, and Katrine peeked inside. It was unusually dark and curiosity got the best of her. She turned the heavy knob and the door creaked open. It hung slightly at an angle, the ship was listing to starboard. Devlan stepped in first and as Katrine followed, she could smell the decay up here as well. The room was dark, long heavy curtains covered the large window. In the middle of the room stood a table, several melted candles stood in the center, next to a cracked crystal ball. Various other crystals were arranged on the table and Devlan tried to make sense of it all. His eyes wandered around the room, finally resting on a skeleton leaning back against a velvet covered mahogany chair. The robes it wore were mostly black, trimmed with scarlet.  
“This is a dark priest of Noss,” he said, voice full of wonder. “They must have been blown far off course.”  
“Who?” Katrine asked, eye still searching around the cabin.  
“Noss is a dark goddess worshipped by some people in Z'Hadar. Most people are afraid of the power Noss' priests possess and treat them as if they were gods themselves.”  
“That's how he ended up in here,” Katrine added.  
Devlan nodded.  
“It doesn't look like it did him any good though.”  
“Don't say that so loud,” he exclaimed. “It's rumored that spirits of dark priests surround the body long after its death. We don't want to anger them.”  
Katrine had wandered over to the bed. It was pushed against the window and covered in open books.  
“Devlan, come look at this. I think I've found something.”  
On the floor, hidden under the chair and half lodged under the desk, sat an opaline crystal. It appeared as if it had been broken apart, and Devlan reached for it. Once in his hand, it hummed and he hitched in his breath.  
“Could it be?” he asked aloud.  
Katrine crossed to him and peered behind his shoulder.  
“What is it?” she asked, as he thumbed it lightly.  
“The Ovett Crystal, or one part of it. It's rumored to have been broken apart by the Flores to prevent Alanaria from finding it. It is a source of ultimate power. I think I'll keep this for research. I'm sure Claire's library have something on it.”  
“I found a book over here you might be interested in,” Katrine said as Devlan slipped the crystal into his pocket.  
“I think it's a book of spells used in Z'Hadar. I can't make out the text.”  
Devlan walked over to the bed. Katrine was holding a book with Z'Hadran script on it. The script was old, but he could still make it out.  
“It's an old book of spells,” he said with awe, flipping through the pages. “Many of these spells are no longer used. You're right, I would be interested in it. He won't need it.”  
He motioned to the skeleton on the chair. It was then Katrine noticed something on the bookshelf in the corner. It was hidden behind several musty scrolls. She pushed them out of the way and reached for the jewel-encrusted tiara.  
“What does that do?” Devlan asked, pocketing a small book her found next to the skeleton in the chair.  
“I don't know,” she replied. “I might have Claire do a magic scan.”  
“You can't scan magic?” Devlan asked, standing behind her. “Here, let me try.”  
He waved his hand over the tiara and kept his hand over it for almost a minute before turning to Katrine.  
“It gives the gift of foresight.”  
“But I've got that already.”  
“Maybe it adds to your gift?” he suggested.  
“Maybe,” she said, pulling off her hat and resting it on her head.

The trip back to Claire's cottage was an excited one. Neither wanted to admit to Claire that they had looted a shipwreck, but both knew Devlan couldn’t wait to get home and study his spellbook.  
“Were you ever scared back there?” Devlan asked as they walked quietly back to the clearing where Claire had placed her cottage.  
“A little, but it was exciting. I just wish I could have found something more for me in there. I don't know if I need more foresight.”  
Devlan raised his eyebrows in question.  
“I just keep seeing my brother in bed with a woman. I don't want to see that anymore.”  
Devlan crinkled up his nose.  
“It's awful, I don't understand it. Maybe I'll talk to Claire about it.”


	6. Ruby

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the pirate port of Darkshale, the leader of the most feared crime syndicate looks down upon her faithful members....

It was a raucous celebration in Darkshale that night. The Blackwater Syndicate, the most powerful crime syndicate in the pirate-run town had just killed it's largest opposition, the Marshland Raiders. Ruby Dane, it's leader, looked down from her overstuffed chair to her subordinates.  
“Tonight is your night!” she announced. “All of this is for you! Eat, drink and be merry! You deserve it!”  
She sat back in her chair, legs crossed as a boy with mud-colored hair approached her. He couldn't have been older than fifteen. He carried a silver tray-stolen of course, from a noble who wouldn't miss it heaping with food.  
“Pardon me, Mistress Ruby,” his voice wavered. “I'm on food duty tonight.”  
“Ah yes. Thank you Kilan.” She reached for her silver goblet. Kilan balanced the tray on one hand and reached for the goblet with the other.  
“Tell me Kilan, why are you so nervous?”  
The boy placed the silver tray in front of her and as she reached for the goblet, he flinched.  
“I have only been here several days, Mistress Ruby. Rilan and Li found me rummaging through their packs. They told me newcomers had to clean latrines and run errands for the first month. They told me that you were a cold, unforgiving shrew and that you would administer my punishment.”  
“A shrew, hmmm?” Ruby hid her amusement.  
“I'm sorry, Mistress Ruby, please go easy on me. I didn't know who I was stealing from. I was just looking for something to feed my sisters!”  
“Welcome to Blackwater, Kilan!” Ruby's announcement was so sudden, Kilan stepped back. “You will find everything everyone says about me...is true!”  
She chuckled and reached for the wine cask near her chair.  
“If I'm on business,” she continued. “But business has commenced for now! Go! Celebrate! Find someone to warm your bed!”  
“But Rilan and Li said I was to do the 'undesirable work'.”  
“Rilan and Li are liars. No honor among thieves and all that. Tell me Kilan, before you go, can you fight?”  
“I can wield a dagger.”  
“Starting tomorrow, you will train with me in the back courtyard.”  
She rose, and pushed him off into the crowd. Propping the tray on one hip, she retired to her room, ever grateful to the noble whose house had been offered up to Blackwater on the great migration from Darkshale.  
“That's quite the party,” came a voice from her sitting room.  
“How did you get in?” Ruby asked, setting the tray on a corner table.  
“One has his ways,” the figure stepped into the light. “Beautiful house you've got.”  
He slipped into a gilded chair.  
“It'd be a shame if you were to lose it.”  
“What do you know?” Ruby asked, grabbing a heel of bread from the tray and turned the chair by the door facing outward, straddling it. She propped up one elbow.  
The man removed his hood revealing coal black hair pulled into a ponytail. He had several days' beard growth. His eyes were a striking blue.  
“You are Ruby Dane, correct? Leader of the Blackwater Syndicate?”  
“Who wants to know?” she demanded.  
“There is trouble coming, larger than anything you've ever seen. A girl in Geil will need your help very soon.”  
“I'm busy here. Surely you have others you could send.”  
“No. It has to be you for reasons I can't tell you yet. How familiar are you with the island of Geil?”  
He procured a piece of parchment from his wide sleeve and set it out in front of her.  
“We're here,” he pointed to Darkshale, the pirate city of Lier. “This is Geil, here.”  
He slid his finger to Geil's largest city, Mìla.  
“What of it?” she growled. This man was trying her patience. She knew where Geil was, certainly, but never saw any reason to go there. Outside of Mìla, Shaa's lost colony was nothing more than poor farmers and miners.  
“Take the next ship available to the port city of Mìla. From there, travel to the small mining town of Thelios.” He dragged his finger northwest to the base of the Geil Mountains. “The girl you must find is living in a cottage with a colleague of mine not far there. The girl's name is Katrine. I shall meet up with you once again in Mìla.”  
He disappeared suddenly, leaving Ruby angry and confused. Why did she have to do it? Surely there were other people this man could have picked. She finally had everything, why should she go? She tore into the heel of her bread angrily and began to pace around the room, measuring pros and cons of leaving. She stayed long into the night, staring out the large casement window. The lights of Darkshale flooded her room, and she began to think of her replacement.

 

In the morning, Ruby packed her things. She carefully folded her upscale clothes befitting of a crime boss and stuck them in the back of her wardrobe-she planned on returning one day. She slid into her traveling clothes: leather shoes that tied, tan trousers and a red unbuttoned waistcoat that hung to the top of her knees. At her hip she held numerous pouches, mostly full of throwing knives. A dagger was harnessed to the inside of her left thigh. She rolled up a bronze flintlock pistol on top of her change of clothes and shoved a linen cap over her curly red hair. Her coin purse hung by the bed, she threw it over her head before slamming the door behind her.  
She met with Lian privately, in the area of the house she had marked off as her office. The young girl from the Jade Empire had caught Ruby's eye sometime in the last year as she quickly moved up through the ranks. The Imperial sat upright in the hard backed chair, brown eyes focused on Ruby.  
“Due to reasons unknown to me, I must take a leave of absence. After some deliberation, I have decided that you, Lian, should be my successor. I don't know when or if I should return, but I've seen you fight and I'm positive that Blackwater will continue to thrive in your hands.”  
The young Imperial stood and bowed.  
“Thank you very much, Madame Dane. I won't disappoint you.”  
Ruby's goodbye was far from tearful-she was a strict boss. Kilan, the newest recruit, ran up to her.  
“But Mistress Ruby, who will train me?”  
“Lian will train you. You will find she is very capable.”  
Ruby stepped onto the muddy streets of Darkshale. It had begun to rain, and suddenly she was glad to leave. Ruby Dane had been the leader of the Blackwater Syndicate for four years. At eighteen, she was the youngest crime boss Darkshale ever had. The last daughter of a Rōsshian archduke and promised to the second son of the Duke of Shi'il, it was made painfully clear that she would inherit nothing, so Ruby left home at fourteen and never looked back.  
She joined up with the Blackwater Syndicate and quickly moved up in the ranks when the boss was killed in a bar fight. She stepped in to take his place. Her first order of business was to kill his successor and anyone else who disagreed with her. Blackwater doubled in size in a next year, and became one the most feared crime syndicates in the city.  
She was sure Lian was capable, but why was she following order of a strange man who had given no pretense of who he was or where he was from?  
“He had better not have wasted my time,” she muttered as she neared the shore.  
A swarthy man clad in the stolen garment of a naval officer of Shaa leaned against a signpost.  
“Where ya goin', love?” He grinned lewdly and she reached for her dagger.  
“Geil.”  
“Geil?” the man shriveled up his nose. “Nobody goes to Geil this time of year. You can try a Kurshan trader. I can take you as far as Port Mathias.”  
“Are you going to Geil?” another man called. He was tall, with ebony skin and wore a bright red and orange wrap, slung over his shoulder, common for his people.  
“What's a Kenshari doing here?”  
“Looking for work, same as you.” the man replied. “Name's Badru. We're not takin' passengers , but you can keep the spoils. We can drop ye off at Mìla, if that's where you be needin' to go.”  
He extended his hand. She spit in her palm and shook his forcefully.  
“We leave tomorrow mornin'. You can hole up in that inn or sleep on the ship.”  
The Avice, renamed Berta by Badru after he had captured it was a three-masted barque. Barques were more common in this part of the world, since the sailors of frozen Mac’Mordin would sail with their metal-bowed ships to warmer waters. A barque from Shaa was rare, as their navy preferred the larger galleon warships. The Twisted Barnacle lived up to its name. It was dirty, dark, damp and smelled of cheap ale. The atmosphere was heavy, almost as if a brawl were to break out at any moment. Ruby grinned. This was her kind of place. She sauntered over to the tavern master and threw down several silver coins onto the bar.  
“I'd like a room.”  
“We're all full up. I don't know if you've noticed, but this is the last day of shore leave."  
“I've given you more than enough. Would you really treat the leader of the Blackwater Syndicate this way?” Ruby said, pulling up her waistcoat to reveal the dagger at her thigh. It carried the seal of the leader of Blackwater. “Give me a cot and I'll sleep in the hallway.”  
“I-I might have a room available, let me just check my book again.” He stammered as he reached for the book on the shelf under the desk. “Please. Have an ale. It's on the house. Anything for someone as esteemed as yourself.”  
A frothy mug was set in front of her and smirked as she slid onto the stool. It was the best ale the tavern had. The innkeeper appeared a minute later with a key.  
“Here,” he said. He was shaking as he placed the bronze key in her upturned palm. “The key to the suite. It's usually reserved for nobility, but nobles never visit Darkshale.”  
“Thank you,” she said with a smile. The townsfolk were so easy to control. Ruby stood near the the stairs leaning against the wall, surveying the crowd. Badru was in the corner, gambling at an Kalamari dice game.  
“I don't understand this game,” a man was saying, his bronze skin and lilting accent marking him as from the island nation of Shiara.  
“It's quite simple, really,” Badru said with a smile. “I put in five copper and then you put in five copper and I roll. You've thought of the number you want me to beat. If my roll beats your number, I get ten copper.”  
The Shiaran scratched his head.  
“I think I'd rather gamble on cards.”  
He pulled a deck from his pocket. Suddenly Ruby's attention was pulled away from the table in the corner by a tanned man.  
“Hey baby, how much?” he asked, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath.  
Pulling a knife from her sleeve and darted forward, cold steel on his neck.  
“I'm not for sale!” she spat. “Touch me and I will bring the wrath of Blackwater upon you.”  
His eyes grew wide and he stumbled away. Draining her drink, she slammed the mug down hard on the table before turning on her heel up the stairs.  
Ruby threw open the curtains in her suite and was rewarded with a view of the harbor.  
Darkshale had been a beautiful town once. Called “The Jewel of the Empire” by the Flores in the golden era before the war. Darkshale had not been jewel-like in many centuries. After the Great Purge, and the Flores left the forest and retreated toward the mountains, Darkshale was forgotten about. The nearby Jade Empire used it as a major northern port and The Queendom of Melena used it as summer homes for their nobles.The first pirates arrived over a century ago and with their arrival began the slow retreat of Meleni nobles. The very last one left ten years ago, Blackwater Syndicate now inhabiting it's gilded halls.  
Ruby pulled the curtains closed with a flourish: the harbor was nothing to shout at. Oh, the ships were impressive, but she couldn't get that man's words out of her head. What kind of trouble could this girl possibly be in? She hoped it wasn't an escort mission. Her talents were wasted on escort missions. She sighed heavily and kicked off her shoes. A bath could wait until   
she reached Geil. 

She was awoken the next day by a noise. She threw open the curtain to find Badru standing on the deck of his ship wearing robes like fire and blowing into a conch shell horn. She scrambled to strap in her knives and stomped into her shoes as she ran out the door. Badru surveyed his crowd of sailors. He generally stopped at Darkshale twice a year to pad out his crew. He ran a tough ship and viewed Darkshale as a way to weed out the weak. He stood outside of his ship for a week after sailing into port and left with a mostly new crew. Ruby stood at attention with the rest of the crew as Badru began his inspection.  
“State your name, and job title,” he demanded.  
“Ruby Dane. I'll work wherever you need me.”  
“So in his quarters, then,” a man next to her snickered.  
“What did you just say?”  
Badru was in his face in seconds.  
“That she'd make a good bed warmer for you, sir.” His green eyes stared straight ahead, away from Badru's intense dark ones.  
“Your name and rank,” Badru continued, voice never once wavering.  
“Kiernan Mirra, second mate.”  
“Well, Kiernan, you've been demoted to midshipman for now.”  
The bronze-skinned man next to him snickered.  
“I would cease, unless you wish to be working with him.”  
The snickering stopped.  
“As fate would have it, I'm in the market for a second mate. Can anyone take Kiernan's place?”  
A man of about twenty-five with curly blond hair pushed his way through the crowd.  
“I can.”  
“Name.”  
“Rory Winston-Rey.”  
“Very well,” Badru replied. “Everyone to your stations. There are six four hour shifts. We set sail in fifteen.”  
Ruby took the first shift. She had only been a deckhand one other time on her way to Darkshale. It wasn't a time she remembered fondly. That boy toyed with her heart. As men clambered up the ratlines and yardarms, she stayed on the ground with the other men and helped secure the ropes.  
“What kind of booty are ye hopin' to find?” the swarthy man next to her asked. His curly black hair was matted to his forehead; his grey linen trousers hung to his ankles, and he was barefoot.  
“I needed a ride to Mìla and he was offering.” Ruby strained at the rope and Badru's conch shell horn sounded behind her.  
“But gold would be nice.”  
“I'm hopin' for my weight in it,” the man said with a laugh. “I could retire in a quiet bungalow with a pretty Shiaran girl.”  
“Careful, I might take all your gold and retire myself,” Ruby said with a smirk.  
The man laughed.

Later that night over sailing songs and rum, Ruby was approached by a freckled woman. Her brown hair was cropped short to her head and her tanned arms were bare and freckled.  
“You're a sight for sore eyes,” the woman's voice was abrasive and a bit hoarse, a result of many years at sea. “It's been too long since Badru has allowed another woman on his ship. Name's Darda.”  
Ruby crinkled her nose.  
“Allowed?” she asked with distaste.  
“Several years ago, there was a scuffle on this ship. His first mate, a woman, was caught sneaking around below decks during her shift at night. She had been hearing rumblings of a mutiny, and she figured no one would expect the first mate during the night watch. Several men caught her and pinned the plans on her. Badru forbade women on the ship after that.”  
“How did you sneak on?” Ruby asked, stealing the rum for the man sleeping on the bench next to her.  
“Disguised myself as a man. I'm a damn good sailor, and I'm not gonna let anyone tell me; I can't sail with them because of what I lack.”  
She laughed, a loud throaty laugh.  
“Badru may be a slave driver at times, but he runs a good ship. That's why I choose to keep sailing with him.”  
The conch shell sounded from above.  
“That's my shift. Nice to meet you.”  
“I'm Ruby.” she called as Darda headed up the steps.  
“Great name for a pirate!” Darda smiled as she disappeared above.  
“Ruby, hmmm?”  
She turned around quickly. The swarthy man from earlier now sat in Darda's spot. His curly hair had been pushed out of his honey colored eyes and he was smirking.  
“Deverell.” He didn't extend his hand. Instead, he gripped his wooden mug.  
“With a name like yours, it's no wonder you want my booty.”  
He smiled. It was not disagreeable.  
“Care to gamble on cards?” he asked, producing a deck from his sleeve.  
“I always gamble on cards.”  
She turned to the barrel beside her and pulled out the cork. Honey-colored liquid filled her mug to overflowing. She stopped the barrel with the cork and took a big gulp before slamming it back down onto the table. Deverell had thrown in five silver.  
“Generous,” she muttered, throwing in two copper.  
He laid out two cards on the table. She was to try to beat them. In her hand she held a king and a jack. His ten and ace could be beaten. She slid the money across the table into her pocket.  
“Do you still want to play?” she asked with an evil glint in her eyes.  
“Always.” His smiled matched hers.  
The hour grew late and Ruby's pile of money grew. Deverell was far into his cups and beginning to doze when Ruby touched his arm.  
“I think we should retire,” she whispered.  
Her lips on his ear woke him from his slumber and he pulled her onto his lap. His lips searched for hers.  
“No, not here,” she whispered. “I'll go first. Wait five minutes and then come join me.”  
Her hands searched for him in the dark and he complied to her wishes. Their bodies moved together in the dark in an ancient dance, and only when she was sated did she pull away from him.  
They lay awake in her bunk, bodies glistening with sweat, both gasping for air. Deverell held her tightly as she dozed. Her skin was like porcelain, her hair deep red, like her namesake and falling in ringlets around her delicate face. She sighed happily in her sleep and rolled over. Deverell slid out of bed and wandered back to his quarters.

Ruby awoke with a start. The ship was listing to one side and Badru's conch shell was blaring.  
“All hands! All hands!” the first mate was calling.  
Ruby jumped out of bed. Her trousers lay in a heap next to her shoes. She leaned on the bunk as the ship righted itself. Throwing on her waistcoat and linen cap, she stopped to wake the sleeping man on the cot across from her.  
“Shafiq! Shafiq!” she shook him awake. “We're needed topside!”  
She didn't wait for a response, she was already out the door as he rose.   
The deck was in chaos. Men were clinging to the rails as water poured over the deck. Badru was at the helm. He was clenching the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were white. His first mate was standing next to him, shouting commands.  
“What's going on?” Ruby asked the first man she saw.  
“We've encountered a giant squid! It's trying to drag us under.”  
“Can't we fire at it?”  
“That will just make it mad!” he screamed over the noise. “The captain is trying to break free.”  
Several feet away, men were loading cannons. The squid shrugged off the cannon fire and reached a long tentacle over. Cutlasses out, the men began hacking at it. With one flick, it threw them over the side.  
“Hard to starboard! Hard to starboard!” the first mate yelled. The ship lunged to the right, throwing Ruby into the mast.  
“Grab the rope!” Deverell called, throwing out a length of rope. Ruby tied it around her waist and began to climb.  
“What are you doing?” Deverell called. His voice was lost to the wind.  
She threw one leg over the yard and inched toward the squid's giant eye. She reached for her knife belt. She had forgotten it in her haste. She cursed aloud and realized she had also left her dagger belt hanging over her bed. Balancing precariously, she stepped off the yardarm onto the ratline.  
“I found it's eye!” she called. “But I left my daggers in my quarters!”  
“I'll climb it!” Deverell announced as another giant tentacle crashed into the ship.  
Before she could even open her mouth, the man had begun scrambling up the ratline.  
“Stay safe!” he called, the wind catching his voice.  
As the ship lurched port side, the creature made a deafening screech, and loosed it's tentacles, taking a handful of sailors with it as it retreated. The men cheered and Deverell smiled.  
“All right, all right, everyone back to your stations!” the first mate called.  
The men scattered. Several stood at the bow, praying to Kensie to guide their fallen shipmates. Not long after Ruby's shift ended, Deverell sat down across from her.  
“Care for a game of cards?” he asked, a glint in his eye.  
She finished her ale in one gulp. It tasted like piss, but it was better than nothing. She grimaced and slammed the mug onto the table so hard it cracked.  
“I know you think I need protecting. I know how men get after they've been inside a woman, but let me tell you something. I have no feelings for you one way or the other, and you don't need to save me. Try that shit again, and you'll find yourself with one ball.”  
She punched him. The force was so strong it knocked him out of his chair. Deverell sat on the floor, trying to regain his composure as Ruby's diminutive frame hovered over him, hand still balled into a fist.  
“What the hell?”  
“That squid was mine!” she exclaimed.  
Suddenly the floor fell out from beneath her and she was falling. She kicked out, knocking over a chair. Deverell scrambled to move out of the way. Ruby stood, grasping the chair and slammed it against the wall. It shattered, and the men in the corner pulled the fiddles from their chins.  
“Fight!” they cried, breaking into chaos.  
Deverell had scrambled to his feet and grabbed Ruby's empty mug in his right hand. In his other hand he held a bottle. Her hand was on her dagger. A noise broke out behind them- the fight had started. Deverell had opened his mouth to say something when a mug went flying through the air, hitting Ruby in the side of the head. She turned.  
“Who threw that?” she yelled as she threw the broken chair into the fray.  
She joined the fight now enveloping the common room, Deverell close behind. It had been a while since he had been in a fight, and his knuckles itched. Ruby flew into a table. It broke on impact and she searched for the one responsible. She found him-black hair, his face frozen in a smirk. She had been waiting for this. She lifted herself off the broken table and sauntered over to Kiernan.  
“I think we got off on the wrong foot,” she said, saccharine dripping from her voice.  
“Well, well, looks like I got me a bed warmer for tonight!”  
He smiled and turned to his friend, who was being pummeled by Darda. That's when Ruby punched him in the gut. He stumbled over backwards, and she lunged towards him, grabbing the collar of his shirt.  
“I'm the leader of the Blackwater Syndicate, and I deserve respect!”  
Kiernan's eyes grew wide and she threw him into the nearby table. The force was enough to knock him unconscious. Ruby stood over him, fists balled and punched him hard in the jaw.  
“Break it up! Break it up!”  
Badru's second mate ran down the stairs and jumped on a table. When he got no response, he took a broken chair and slammed it hard against the table. Rory was not used to Badru's particular brand of pirate, and when no one listened, he punched the first person he saw. The tall man punched Rory Winston-Ray so hard that he fell back into the chair, unconscious. Several minutes passed and Badru's conch shell was heard. Badru's first mate could be heard yelling over it. Shortly after, he was below decks, pulling people apart.  
“Stop this at once!” His eyes surveyed the room. He found the second mate lying unconscious in a chair.  
“Who is responsible for this fight? And who knocked Second Mate Winston-Rey unconscious?”  
“Beres!” someone called from the back.  
“You Beres?” the first mate asked of the tall ebony man.  
“Yes,” Beres replied in a rich baritone.  
“Who started this?” the first mate asked again.  
No one could seem to remember who started it, and Ruby slipped through the crowd unnoticed.  
“Into the brig for now,” the first mate told Beres. “The captain will decide your punishment later.”

Several nights later, Ruby stood outside Deverell's cabin door. She knocked twice and when he opened the door, she threw herself at him. The force of her mouth on his threw him back hard against the round table. The lamp shattered. Her fingers searched for the buttons of his trousers. He pushed her hard against the wall. His hands were at her waist, unbuttoning hers. His trousers fell to his knees, and he entered her.  
Their moves were frantic, desperate, each trying to climb higher and inevitably crashing back down with each erratic movement. He finished, and pulled away, and Ruby cried out. She whispered a thank you in his ear as she gathered her things. She kissed him fully on the mouth, fingers knotting in his hair before turning on her heel and leaving.  
Ruby and Deverell had an unspoken agreement, one he had agreed to on their first night together. It was a three week trip to Mìla, and a woman had needs. He was happy to oblige. She didn't care if she saw him again after this, and this was not the first time she used someone for her benefit.  
The common room was still a mess from the fight several days before, and she had to stand against the wall to drink her rum.  
“This is so boring,” she announced to Darda, who was leaning against a barrel. “I thought being a pirate would be more interesting.”  
“We're sailing in a direction not many go this time of year. Captain Badru took a chance going north in the spring. We're bound to find something soon.”  
She slammed her fist against the wall.

Several miles out from the Isle of the Holy Triad, Badru spotted a ship. The waters surrounding the Queendom of Melena and the Holy Island and Shiara were quite busy this time of year. Most of the traffic was ferries from the mainland taking pilgrims to one of the monastery towns, but from the looks of it, the ship belonged to a Shiaran merchant. It was sitting heavy in the water and moved slower than most naval vessels.  
“Ready the crew,” he announced, reaching for his conch shell.  
The first mate rang the bell to stations.  
“All hands! All hands!” he called.  
The crew scrambled above the deck, fighting for a spot in line.  
“Prepare for battle!” Badru announced.  
“To your stations! We will be taking that ship there!”  
The first mate pointed to the ship just off the Holy Island.  
A cheer rang out amongst the crew.  
“Hard to starboard!” Badru called.  
Ruby scrambled to her station-rigging. She was small and lithe and the sails needed to change direction. The wind was in their favor and they were nearing the merchant ship.  
“We don't want the ship, just the goods! Do whatever you wish with the crew! Raise the flag!”  
Badru's colors flew- a skull and crossbones inside a rope border on a red background was raised from the highest mast. The merchant barque desperately tried to escape, but it was weighted down and the Berta was much quicker.  
“Ready the cannons! Round shot!”  
Ruby scrambled back down the ratlines and ran off to help with the cannons.  
“Fire a warning shot!”  
They were still a half mile out from the merchant ship, and the crew was scrambling about.  
“Fire!”  
The cannons erupted, narrowly missing the ship by feet.  
“Bore up! Bore up!” Captain Badru screamed into the wind. “Chain shot! Don't let her get away!”  
The cannons erupted again. The mizzen mast of the barque snapped as the chains tangled in the canvas. The barque was not a warship, but did have several cannon and fired back in a lame attempt to frighten off the Berta. Badru blew his shell and round two was fired. The chains tangled in the aft mast and it came crashing down.  
“Prepare to board!” Badru screamed as the Berta settled alongside of the merchant vessel.  
Ruby climbed onto the rail with everyone else. She jumped over the side, daggers out, and standing at the ready. Her feet hit of the opposing ship's deck and she instinctively rolled onto the balls of her feet. She barely had time to take in her surroundings when a sword swung down in front of her face. She stood and spun around. A woman with dark cropped hair stood before her, cutlass outstretched. She raised her sword and struck downward. Ruby sidestepped out of the way. She slashed with her dagger and missed. The woman slashed downward again and this time Ruby was prepared. As the woman thrust forward, Ruby spun towards her. Cold steel was on the woman's neck and she paused.  
“I'll spare you, if you join our crew.” Ruby's breath was hot on her neck.  
“Never,” the crew woman spat.  
“Very well.”  
One quick jab and the woman fell to the deck, lifeless.  
Ruby shrugged as she moved on. It was a waste, she thought. The woman's sword skills were quite good. She moved gracefully into the crowd. The deck was in chaos, bodies lie strewn about, fallen allies and enemies alike. Most of the crew had taken the merchant vessel, and the ones that stayed behind in charge of minding the anchor and arming the cannons if the captain decided to sink the ship. Captain Badru was at the helm, fighting the other captain.  
“What say you?” he asked between sword strokes. “We stop this fighting and help ourselves to your treasure. I'll even give you my first mate's spot.”  
“Good sailors don't turn pirate!” the captain exclaimed, pulling a brass flintlock pistol from his holster. He aimed it out at Badru and pulled the trigger. It shot over the big man's shoulders and hit his own man in the back. The officer cried out and fell over the side, splashing as he hit the water. Badru grinned and grabbed the pistol and wrenched it from the man's hands.  
“Of course they do!” he said, beating the captain with the butt of his own pistol. When the man finally fell, he turned to his crew.  
“Men! The captain is dead! The ship is ours!”  
The ship was carrying many fine silks from Z'Hadar, precious gems from Shaa and many gold coins from the Kingdom of Riat, stamped with King Baqer's profile and seal. The remaining sailors who witnessed the death of the captain joined Badru's ranks, a total of fifteen.  
“Fire away!” he called after his crew and the treasure off the ship. “We have no more use of it.”  
Ruby spent her last night on the Berta in Deverell's arms. He was a fine lover; he had served her well over these weeks, and this time, instead of leaving when she was finished, she stayed.  
“What are you going to do with the money we took?” she asked lazily. “Mìla's hardly the place to retire.”  
“I'm not ready to retire,” he said, shifting her weight in his arms. “I'm sure I'll find something to spend it on.”  
Ruby's eyes slid closed and she inhaled his scent deeply. He smelled of sweat and the sea and also a little of her. The scent was arousing, and she slid her hands down his stomach. He turned to her, eyes half-lidded, and cupped her face, gently parting her lips with his tongue.

Ruby's stop to Mìla prompted Badru and his crew to take another shore leave. Badru didn't usually allow shore leaves so close to one another, but he was feeling generous after his crew's last success. She felt the chill in the air as she soon as she docked. Ruby had never been to Geil before and she stood in awe as the port city of Mìla was laid out before her.  
Mìla was everything Darkshale was wasn't. Darkshale was dirty, dingy, smelly and crime-ridden, a shell of its former glory, some said. Mìla was the crown jewel of Geil. The streets were paved with shells and rocks, and were wide enough for a two-horse wagon to comfortably travel down. The brothels, crowded in between the taverns in Darkshale, were grouped instead, off to a corner of the docks, waterfront inns taking up the best spots. An open-air market was set up not far from the boardwalk-local farmers selling produce to tourists. Local artisans and tailors sold their wares from stalls nearby. Next to the stalls stood a money changer.  
“I do believe this is where we part ways.” Badru put his hand on her shoulder.  
“Thank you Badru, I hope to meet again.”  
“There's a chill in the air. This leave will be a short one.”  
His hand was outstretched and she shook it firmly, a strong single shake. Pirates were a rarity in Mìla, and knowing this, the crew of the Berta tried as best they could to act legitimate. Shipping papers were forged, in Rory Winston-Rey's best Shiaran script, and doctor's bills of health copied and stored topside.  
Ruby scanned the hotels that dotted the waterfront. She decided on a squat tavern near the brothels. After changing her money to the measly sum these people called currency, she retired to The Happy Sailor for the evening. She groaned. Gelish were not very creative with names.  
The tavern itself was quiet. It was early in both the day and the season. She took a spot at the bar and threw five gaels on the bar.  
“How much will this buy me?” she asked with boredom in her voice.  
“A room, a hot meal, and an ale.”  
It was hard not to hide her look of surprise.  
“It's the off-season,” the innkeeper explained. “We gotta make a living somehow.”  
The tavern food was surprisingly good. The ale was locally brewed and some of the best she had ever tasted. She wondered if her reputation preceded her. She shrugged and trudged on sea-weary feet up to her room.  
She had just dozed off when the sound of her door closing made her sit up.  
“This room is occupied!” she called.  
“I know,” a familiar voice responded. The same dark haired man she spoke with in Darkshale sat at her table. He was lighting the lamp. “I did say I'd find you once you got to Mìla.”  
“But I never sent you a letter, never gave you any way to find me.”  
“I have my ways,” he said with a smile. “How was your journey? Pleasant, I hope.”  
“It was fine.” She slid out of bed.  
Solin pulled another map from his sleeve and unrolled it on the table, using two brass bookends to hold down the corners. This map was much smaller-it just had the big island of Geil and the far northeastern part of Shaa.  
“This is the trail I'd like to you to take. As you can see, you stay as close to the river as you can. There will be a ferry in the town of Delthos that will shuttle you across Lake Alhren. Avoid the mountains until you reach here-” Solin pointed to a spot just outside of the Forest vi Miithos. “The wind is cold and unforgiving and it has been known to snow at it's base this early in the season. Thelios will be located at the foot of these mountains. You can't miss it-it's the home of the Royal Valencian Silver Mine. I have prepared the way. Claire awaits your arrival.”  
Ruby started out the next day, borrowing a horse from the livery stable. Solin had made it very clear the night before that she couldn't steal anything on her trip to Thelios. She could have just stolen the horse in the night and been on her way by morning, but Solin informed her that he'd know if she stole anything in the town. He didn't tell her how he’d know, but here she was on a horse she paid for. She set out at the crack of dawn to a town in the mountains, she cared nothing for a girl she cared even less about.  
Slowly, the budding metropolis of Mìla gave way to the quiet Geilish countryside. Farms dotted the landscape, specks of color decorating the otherwise drab landscape. Ruby pulled out her map. Solin marked towns along the way that she could stay. It was a two week trip from Mìla. She hadn't had time to pack provisions; it had been a long time since hadn't just stolen what she needed.  
The closest town was twenty miles away. She should arrive by mid-afternoon. The gradual trek north was slow and annoying, and when she finally stopped at an inn for the night, she went straight to bed without stopping for supper.  
“I hope this girl is worth it,” she muttered the next day after her breakfast-apple bread, oatmeal and dark tea.  
It was another fifteen miles to a small village where she could stop and spend the rest of her money. She wanted off this horse! Maybe she'd leave the horse in Delthos and walk the rest of the way.  
Delthos was the closest thing to a city this part of Geil had and Ruby drank it up. She stabled her horse and reluctantly bough supplies. While Ruby grew up in the mountainous region of Avri Ðo, it had been a long time since she had been back, and she had grown accustomed to the warm climate of Darkshale. As such, she had to purchase a coat. It was heavy wool, and it felt strange on her shoulders. It was too long and hung past her knees. It had no pockets, but the oversized sleeves more made up for it.  
Delthos was expensive. Not many tourists came this far north, but the ones that did had money. The trip for the ferry was nearly double of the price of the horse.  
“45 gaels is ridiculous!”  
“Times are hard,” the ferryman replied with a sigh. “No one comes to this part of Geil until midsummer. Pay up or swim.”  
Ruby reluctantly paid the fee and slid in next to a couple from the north going home. She looked around. The entire ferry was full, which made her wonder what the ferryman was going on about.  
“Greedy bastard,” she muttered under her breath.  
“Oh my!” exclaimed the woman next to her. “Such language on a girl your age.”  
“Look lady, I don't tell you how to act.”  
“What a strange accent you've got. Where are you from?”  
“Far,” Ruby said curtly.  
“We don't get many foreigners this far,” the woman said. “The nobles never take a ferry.”  
The Geilish accent was an unusual one, and Ruby had to concentrate to under the people here. Geil had once been part of Shaa, and it was said the language spoken in Shaa had evolved from Geilish. It had been a long time since Ruby had been in Shaa, but the first thing she noticed about Geilish was the vowels were all wrong. They enunciated words differently, and many she didn't recognize at all. Over the years she spent in Darkshale, she slowly began to lose her northern accent. It was then she realized the reason for the exorbitant ferry prices. The ferry wouldn't get to the other side of the lake until nightfall. She supposed she could always kill the ferryman and take his money.  
Lake Alhren was situated in an ideal spot of Geil. Forests to the east and mountains to the west it was just deep enough to bury the chemical smell and run off brought down the river from the smelting process, and Ruby found herself swept up into the beauty of the land. When the ferry finally made landfall, it was too late to use the inn. With a heavy sigh, she pulled out her map. She was still a day away. She had no qualms about walking at night and she started off. She regretted not killing that bastard ferryman, but pressed on.  
She came upon an old farmstead that evening. The family invited her in. The table was constantly bustling with activity, and it reminder her a little of home. She helped out around the house, cleaning dishes, and putting the youngest children to bed. She was given the spare room off the kitchen, and that night, took nothing but the oldest son's virginity. She was gone by morning. She reached Thelios by mid-afternoon. The crisp mountain air bit at her nose and she shivered in her coat. The town was not was she expected-busy for mid week. There was a faint metallic smell, but the wind blew it east.  
When Ruby finally stopped, she was in the middle of town. The road sloped slightly downhill toward a duck pond and a stunted apple tree. A small grove of trees offered shade and Ruby wondered briefly if this was the grove of trees Solin was speaking of. The sun was high in sky. She dropped her pack and sat in the shade, ready to take a much needed break. In the distance, she spotted something shining in the sun. As it got closer, she noticed it was a carriage, decorated in gold and silver. A visiting noble from Shaa, perhaps? A smile crept up her face.


	7. A Mysterious Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a beautiful spring day, Katrine happens to catch the eye of a mysterious nobleman....

Chapter 7- A Mysterious Visitor

It was a beautiful spring afternoon when Baron liSoa arrived in the small mountainside mining town of Thelios. His summer home was nearly completed and he wanted to check on its progress. He had never visited Thelios in the spring, and he couldn't remember why he didn't want to before. It was beautiful! Wildflowers spread over the ground along the rutted path for miles, bluebells and sage, wild lavender and light pink Geil Fairy Souls. The trees were in full bloom, and the mountainside was littered with pinks and whites, but also was dotted with yellows and greens, and the air carried their fragrance for miles. As the baron breathed in deeply, the air carried a crispness still that could only be found in the early spring in the high mountain mornings. He stabled his horse outside town and walked the rest of the way on foot.  
The Queen's Royal Hotel in Thelios was a misnomer. No queen had ever stayed there, nor was it royal. An old legend said that the original one had burned down after the exile of King Ratham. Another one claimed a revolutionary burned it down because of the ties the inn claimed it had to the Alanarian royal family. The proprietor built another one on the site and here it had stayed for five hundred years. It had one suite, aptly titled the “Queen's Suite”. It was here that Baron liSoa was staying. He had his things sent from Shaa several weeks beforehand, and he was glad to see they had, in fact, arrived before him. The wash basin had been filled recently, and he stood next to it. He hung his coat on a hook by the mirror. He brought his face forward, jutting out his chin and rubbing it softly with his hand. He needed a shave and wondered if there was a barber in town. He looked at the porcelain, golden clawed tub and wondered if the barber traveled.  
He splashed the cold water on his face. It was refreshing from the heat of the afternoon sun. He unbuttoned the collar of his shirt, taking the rag to his neck. He pulled the ribbon from his hair, dark brown locks cascading freely past his shoulders. He supposed he could do with a haircut. Tomorrow, he told himself, crossing from the washbasin to a sitting chair in the corner. He slid his feet out of his heavy traveling boots and set them on the footstool in front of him. He marveled at the size of the sitting room. The Queen's Suite took the entire third floor of the inn. It had its own balcony, facing the Geilish countryside and a private stairway. There was a small room off the sitting room, no larger than a pantry for the servants. Baron liSoa brought no servants. His advisers warned against it, afraid the country folk would rob him blind.  
“I prefer to travel alone,” he told them. “There's just too much pomp having to bring servants along. Besides, I'm sure I could hire a local.”  
He must have dozed off because the next thing he remembered, he was awoken by a knock on the door. The sun was streaming in through the big windows of the sitting room. Groaning, he slid his boots on before walking to the door.  
“Lord liSoa?” came a voice at the door.  
“One moment,” he called from the basin. The water at the basin, now cool was brown from last night's washing. He cringed at it as he pulled the door open. A small man stood in the doorway; the baron assumed he was the owner.  
“Milord, could we interest you in a traditional Geilish breakfast?” The middle-aged innkeeper was beside himself. The Baron had come in the night before and used the private staircase.  
“Tell me good sir,” his voice had the air that all nobility seemed to have, but it sounded stilted, almost foreign and the innkeeper surmised he had not been noble for very long. “Is there a barber in this city?”  
“Yes, my lord.”  
“Perchance, does he travel? I would like a bath and a haircut.”  
“I will send for him, sir.” The innkeeper bowed deeply. “Shall I bring breakfast up, sir?”  
The baron thought for a moment before nodding.  
“I think I'd like to try it.”  
He smiled before closing the door. The innkeeper bowed again, before turning on his heel.  
He sat on the bench near the door and slid his heavy boots off his feet. His house slippers had been packed but still sat in his trunk. He padded over to the bedroom and threw the big windows open. He breathed in deeply and turned to his trunk. His house slippers were wool sewn into velvet were sitting on the top. His wrap, a long green silk coat that buttoned down the front, hung in the closet. Unbuttoning his shirt, he slipped it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Perhaps he could hire a local girl to wash it for him. He had just finished buttoning his wrap when there was a knock at the door.  
“Lord liSoa?” the innkeeper called from behind the large oak door, and Baron liSoa released a heavy sigh, such formality for such a little thing. He crossed to the door, and the innkeeper emerged from behind it. He set the tray down with the best dishes, of course, on the table and quickly crossed back to the door.  
“The town barber will be here shortly, my lord. We are preparing water for your bath presently, sir, so if you'd prefer to eat undisturbed, I can bring your tray into the other room.”  
The baron held up his hand. The poor man was rambling.  
“It is no trouble. You will not bother me, but I could use the company.”  
“If you wish sir, I could send a girl up-”  
“No, really. It's fine. Everything is fine!”  
He took several deep breaths. When he grew calm, he spoke again.  
“ Shall I unlock the servants entrance?”  
The innkeeper was tripping over his feet as the baron motioned to the door behind him, and when he sat down to his meal, he turned to the innkeeper, who was backing slowly towards the door, eyes glued to the floor.  
“What is your name?”  
“Artan, sir.”  
“Artan!”the baron exclaimed. “What a fantastic name! My name is Tien. If I'm to stay here for a week, we should at least be introduced.”  
Artan was speechless. Here was this man, a nobleman from Shaa, speaking with him as if were a normal person. Everything he had heard about nobility was proven to be false with this man. Baron liSoa tore into his bread.  
“I'll leave you to it then, sir.” He stepped back toward the door. “Your water should be up presently.”

 

Baron liSoa left the inn some time later, via the private entrance, as that was the only one available. His hair was a manageable length, and he smelled faintly of roses. A small boy stood near the inn's front entrance.  
“Braden?” he asked.  
“Yes sir,” he said meekly. “What can I assist you wish?”  
“Could you give me a tour of this town?”  
“Yes sir, but it won't be long-it's not a very big town. I'm sorry, sir.”  
“It's fine, my dear boy.” He smiled. “Would you prefer to walk?”  
“W-walk, sir?”  
“Of course! It's a beautiful day!”  
“Wouldn't my lord prefer a carriage?”  
“I would, if this were a city. Come! Show me the sights!”  
“This is the inn,” Braden stated. “I hope you find your stay pleasant as this the only one for miles. It was built over five hundred years ago over the same site of the first one burned down in the skirmish with the loyalists.”   
They continued down the main street, bustling with people out to see nobility. His advisers had warned him of this, of course, but these were simple folk. This was the most excitement many of them would have for their entire life. Young women tittered and threw their handkerchiefs, hoping he'd pick them up or coyly looked away. Braden continued.  
“This is the general store. It is the largest in the region.”  
Baron liSoa nodded. He had been to the store before.  
“Would my lord care to hear about the mine?” Braden asked.  
“I should be visiting within the week,” the baron said proudly. “ But if there's anything I need to know beforehand, you may tell me.”  
The boy prattled off knowledge of the mine most outsiders already knew and Baron liSoa reached out to ruffle the boy's hair.  
“Sir?” Braden looked up. The baron pulled his hand back.  
"How are you instructed to speak to your elders?” he asked.  
“Miiz-thi-” the boy began.  
“Miiz-thi” he repeated. He fumbled over the words. Shaa and Geil may be close together, but their words were far apart. “Zimpter,” He crinkled his nose. “Or liSoa. Maybe liSoa. It flows off the tongue better.”  
“Miiz-thi liSoa,” the boy began again. “Perhaps you would like to see the school. Education is m in Geil until age fourteen.”  
The schoolhouse was a two-storied brick building set back away from the main road. It was nestled in the pine forest, which surrounded it on three sides. A tiny stream, mountain runoff, flowed past the school on its way to meet the Silver River. Children could be heard laughing as the Baron and Braden continued on the path towards the school.  
“Why aren't you in school?” Baron liSoa asked.  
“I work with my father at the inn. I'm allowed to help him when he needs me.”  
“Tell me Braden, what of your culture?”  
The color drained from his face and he looked from side to side.  
“L-let me go get my brother. He will be of more help.”  
They rounded the corner from the school to the main road when a cloaked figure ran into him. The force knocked the figure over and the hood slipped off, revealing crimson curls.  
“Hey! Watch where you're going!” she snapped. She pushed the curls out of her eyes. He held out his hand.  
“I'd like my coin purse back,” He smiled as the thief made a face.  
“Fine,” she slid the coin purse back into his hands, standing on her toes to whisper in his ear. “We could always make an arrangement?”  
“No!” He knelt down to whisper in her ear. “Why don't you keep walking, and I won't report you to the authorities.”  
The thief nodded and let go of his hand. She disappeared over the bridge and the baron watched her go.  
“Here's the mining office,” Braden continued. “If you plan on visiting the mine, you'll have to check in here. This office is older than the inn by two hundred years. When the Great Quake created this island a thousand years ago, we lost all contact with the continent. Some people might wonder why we Geilish never had one, an office, but you see, Queen Valencia seemed to think we'd be better off mining than looking at numbers.”  
Baron liSoa rubbed his temples. Braden was prattling off history from a thousand years before, national pride swelling within him. The baron couldn't believe it. A thousand years and the Geilish still remembered the queen as a tyrant. He touched the boy's shoulder.  
“Braden, why don't we continue on?”  
“Yes, my lord.”  
They walked together in silence, until finally the baron spoke up.  
“Braden, I have heard much talk of the Winter Festival. Why don't you tell me of that.”  
“It's a time of death and renewal,” Braden said, once again sounding like he was reciting from memory. “We worship Alorai, the regeneration goddess. Ba'Lethi is the Great Mother, of course, but Alorai gives this land life, but takes it away each winter. We give her honor because we're never sure if she's going to bring Everlasting Rains the next year.”  
They stopped and Baron liSoa noticed they were in the square. Apple and winternut trees filled the square and he took a deep breath.   
“Braden, you have been a very good guide, but I wish to have lunch.”  
“My mama has already prepared us a boxed lunch. If you wish to wait here, I can run back to the inn.”  
“Thank you Braden. It's a wonderful day, I would like to enjoy it. Unless you would prefer company.”  
“No miiz-thi liSoa, it's fine,” Braden bowed deeply and ran off back to the inn.  
A short time later, Braden returned with a box wrapped in a cloth. Baron liSoa took the box from the boy and sat down cross-legged under a winternut tree. Braden's green eyes grew wide. Tien undid the knot and smoothed down the corner of the cloth. He motioned for the boy to sit down.  
“It might be last night's leftovers,” he began as the baron slid off the lid. He pulled out six small packages, wrapped in parchment and a small cask of wine, and two small wooden cups. Tien pulled the cork free; the wine had been watered down, mostly for Braden's benefit, partially for storage and he smiled.  
“It’s been so long since I've had time for a picnic!” he exclaimed. He pulled Braden's cup first. Braden had opened the first package to discover that his mother had prepared cold lamb sandwiches. He crinkled his nose.  
Lunch was mostly eaten in quiet. When they were finished, Braden stashed the box under the chestnut tree and turned to the baron.  
“You have been a wonderful guide Braden,” he began with a deep bow. “But I would like to return to the inn to wash up. I have an appointment with my architect this afternoon.”  
“As you wish, miiz-thi.”

After the baron had washed up and changed his clothes, there came a knock on his door. He threw it open. Braden stood there, head tilted to one side, trying to not stare at the immaculate room in front of him.  
“Pardon me, my lord, but would you like an escort to your estate?”  
Baron liSoa knelt down and ruffled the boy's hair.  
“Thank you, but I'll have to decline. I can make the trip by myself, but I thank you for the offer. Please let the cook know I won't be back until late in the evening.”  
“Yes my lord,” the boy turned on his heel and walked back down the stairs. Tien waited several minutes and followed him. The way to his future estate was not far by horseback. A blueish-grey building rose up on the horizon. The forest around the base of the mountain had been cleared, barren earth and water filled holes pockmarked the horizon. Construction on the second floor was well underway. It was a grand building, he could already tell from the road. Large windows faced a patch of land where the garden would be. Curved archways wound around the back-a private cathedral. The stained glass wasn't finished yet, but he had no doubt it would rival even the stained glass at his estate in Soa.  
A short man standing near a laborer looked up. He had a scroll in his hand.  
“My lord!” The contractor's voice boomed through the clearing. He bowed deeply as the baron's horse trotted to a stop.  
“Ardal!” Tien exclaimed, stepping down from his horse. His heavy burgundy coat waved out behind him as he turned to face the construction. “The pace has reached an acceptable speed. I am pleased.”  
“I do apologize sir, Geilish winters are harsh. We began construction immediately after the first thaw.”  
The contractor offered a smile.  
“Would my lord like a tour of the grounds?”  
Ardal motioned widely with his arms to the tree filled grounds a half mile out from where his estate sat, nestled at the base of the Geil Mountains.  
“Oh, I suppose.” the baron shrugged. “Tell me, Ardal.”  
They began walking. The short man struggled to stay ahead of the tall noble.  
“Yes my lord?”  
“What trees have those light pink blossoms?”  
“Those are winternuts, milord.”  
“I would like them planted around the estate. Early so I can see them in full bloom when it's time to move in.”  
“Very well, my lord!”  
Ardal bowed again, and waved a foreman over. He whispered in his ear and the foreman ran back to where he had come from.  
“You mentioned something finding a wife while you were here, milord? Your future wife will enjoy these gardens.” He motioned to a patch of land devoid of plants. “We haven't planted any flowers yet. We have hired a wonderful gardener and are waiting on word from you on what to plant.”  
“I don't know much about flowers; I trust your gardener.”  
“He's your gardener,” Ardal replied, continuing on to the woods. “As you can see, we have kept most of the oak forest intact. Our oak trees are in high demand by the queen for her new style galleons, but I'm sure she could make an exception for you."  
The poor man was rambling now, and it was Tien could do to calm him down.  
“Ardal! Ardal, please!”  
The dark-haired man stopped and bowed again slightly.  
“I'm sorry, sir. Was it too much information?”  
“Tell me, are there game in this forest?”  
“Why yes my lord, deer, bear, even cougars. Geil offers several type of game bird and there is a river nearby, if you care for fishing or for hunting water birds.”  
“Thank you, Ardal.”  
They walked mostly in silence. The forest went on for miles and thankfully Ardal stopped a ways in turned around.  
“We have used only the finest rocks in the construction of your estate, milord, many mined from our local quarry. As you can see, Geil Blue Stone-a form of naturally blue slate native to this country, was used for the outer walls. The inner walls will be covered with wood and wallpaper, and perhaps, plaster. We've quarried marble for the floors and granite for the fireplaces.”  
“May I see it?” Tien asked.  
“I'm sorry milord, but as the second floor is still under construction, I would have to recommend strongly against it. If you give us one more season, it should be completed. Perhaps come back during Heavy Boughs or Loudnights?”  
“Very well,” the baron said, turning away from his estate. “I will try to make a return trip in the summer.”  
He motioned to the stable boy, and his horse, a white and black speckled mare came trotting over towards him. He grasped the reins, and turned to Ardal before climbing into the saddle.  
“I will stop by again on Lethsday, to discuss payment.”  
“Yes, my lord!”  
Baron liSoa made a sound with his lips and the horse turned down the tree-covered lane back toward Thelios.

The sun was low in the sky when Ruby stepped out of the woods. She had been living a tent for the last few weeks, casing out the Iros and Son General Store. She had learned the times when staffing would shift. She knew that one of them lived above the store-the son, she surmised. She crept along the hedgerows along the road looking for a way to the back entrance. She passed the Queen's Royal Hotel and adjoining tavern and there she found her opening. The wooden fence separating the general store from the tavern had a loose board and she pulled aside it aside and slid through it.  
The backyard of the general store was larger than she expected, and it was no problem finding the rear entrance. She rummaged through her coat pocket and produced her set of lock picks. She had no way of knowing if the son had left the building, so she had to be quick. When the lock clicked open, she pushed the door open slightly with her foot. She stuck her head into the crack. Listening for signs of life, she heard nothing, so she proceeded through the door.  
The store was dimly lit. There was a fireplace in the back of the store, the fire was slowly dying, and she could see her breath in the dim light from the lamps. She heard steps coming from the back office. Quietly, she made her way past the displays of shovels and lanterns and stopped by the jars of pulled taffy. She contemplated stealing a jar of pulled taffy for her trouble spent in this town, but instead slid carefully over the counter. The drawer wasn't locked, so she pulled bills from the till and wadded them into her pockets. She took the silvers, and it was then that she heard the chair in the office slide out. She closed the drawer and hid in the crevice underneath the register.  
The door to the office and a brown-haired man stuck his head out. He looked around for several moments before turning and closing the door. The chair slid once again, and Ruby made a run for it. She had forgotten to close the door in her haste, but she hoped to be gone by the time it was discovered.  
Ruby waited until she was back at her camp before she emptied her coat pockets. The campfire popped and she grabbed a small stick to light her lantern. Thirty-seven gael fifty-three. She sighed. She was hoping for more, but this should get her to the next town. Throwing the notes into an old sock, she undid her bedroll. She planned to leave by morning.

Katrine arrived at the store the next morning to discover her father and Thaddeus huddled around the cash drawer. The closed sign was still hanging from the door.  
“I already told you, Stavros,” Thaddeus began. “I don't know how this happened. I heard a noise, and looked around but no one was there. Both doors were locked.”  
Katrine crept forward and the floorboards creaked. Stavros turned to see his daughter standing next to him, a blank expression on her face.  
“Katrine.” His voice was tense, and Katrine clenched her hands. “We were robbed last night. I need you to work full-time at the store. Thaddeus is suspended indefinitely.”  
Stavros shot his assistant an icy glare, and Katrine shivered from the look that spread across Thaddeus' face.  
“But what about my studies?” she asked.  
Stavros stepped behind the counter.  
“It should only be temporary, but it might be best if you moved back with us.”  
Her heart sank. She was so close. Termogran was in her grasp, and suddenly, it disappeared, gone forever.  
“Very well,” she replied, fighting back tears.  
She turned on her heel and walked out the back way. Throwing herself against the wall, she let out her disappointment in heavy sobs.

She returned to Claire's sometime later, but realized she couldn't enter. This cottage had become her home, and she was hesitant to leave it. She walked the garden, listing off the potions she could make with Claire's flowers. She recalled the large oak tree, where she and Devlan would spend lazy days studying, and for the first time in a long time, she was angry at her brother. She opened the front door a crack and slid through it.  
Claire looked up from the table.  
“Katrine? What's wrong?”  
Claire stood and grabbed another mug from the rock and set it on the table. Katrine slid into an empty chair and threw her head in her hands.  
“Our store was robbed last night. Da's fired Thaddeus and wants me to take up the shop full time.”  
Claire sat down next to her and pulled her into an embrace.  
“Da says I have to quit my lessons.”  
“You've progressed much since we first met. If you wish, you may practice on the weekend. I will not move my cottage until you and Devlan have been accepted to Termogran.”  
Katrine smiled weakly. She poured a cup of lavender tea, a staple of Claire's and something she had grown to enjoy. She stared into the cup, wondering when she'd ever have it again.  
“He wants me to move back home.”  
She said this part so quietly Claire head to lean forward to hear her.  
“Very well, “ Claire replied calmly. “I will remain here. You're welcome to practice whenever you wish.”  
Katrine sat in her room that night, packing her things. The paint on her cedar trunk was faded and beginning to chip. She sighed heavily and rolled up a pair of thick woolen stockings. Tears slid down her face, and her whole body shook as the sobs wracked her body. She threw the rolled stockings across the room. They bounced off the wall and fell to the floor with a soft thud.  
Devlan hand just left the kitchen, a steaming mug of spiced tea in his hands when he heard Katrine. He was on the way to his room for some late night studying. He stuck his head in and setting his tea on the dresser by the door he ran to her side.  
“Katrine!” he exclaimed. He pulled her close and she didn't pull away.  
“Oh Devlan. I don't want this, any of this!”  
She pulled her face into his shoulder, and he found it very hard to listen with her body pressed against hers. She cried into his shoulder and he wasn't sure what to do with his hands.  
“I'll still see you, won't I?” he asked.  
“I don't know.”  
She pulled away and wiped her face on the back of her hand.  
“I want to finish my lessons. Da has to let me go to Termogran.”  
Devlan's dark eyes darted back and forth as his brain yelled at him to tell her all the things he wanted to say before it was too late.  
“Katrine, I...” he started lamely. “I like you.”  
“I like you too Devlan.”  
His heart soared. Was it possible she felt the same way?  
“I'm going to miss you,” she said with a smile.  
His brain screamed at him to kiss her and suddenly his throat was very dry. He started to lean in and she stood up to retrieve the socks she threw.  
“I should really finish packing. Da will be here in the morning to pick up my things.”  
Devlan looked around quickly, trying to hide the blushing. He swallowed hard and then stood up.  
“I should finish studying. Claire's to test me on Geilish tomorrow, and it won't be the same without you to help me.”  
He took his mug of spiced tea from the dresser and quietly left.

Stavros and Stephanos arrive early the next morning for Katrine's things. Devlan stayed locked in his room, a brooding fit brewing. He sat near his window, he could see her house from her window as well. He didn't know if he'd ever see her after today and he watched the forest intently for any movement.  
“I still want to train,” Katrine announced once her father had brought her trunk down the stairs.“We're never open on Lethsday and Arsđay anyway. My training is almost complete and I wish to go to Termogran.”  
Stavros glanced from his daughter to Claire, who was standing in the doorway of her potion room.  
“We can discuss this, if we must,” she said. “I do hope Katrine can finish her lessons.”  
“This is only temporary, but if she would like to continue on the weekends, I can't stop her.”  
“Oh thank you Da!” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “You're the best, Da.”  
She turned and looked towards the stairs. She hadn't seen Devlan all morning.  
“Where's Devlan?” she asked Claire.  
“Still up in his room.”  
Katrine turned to her father and brother. Stavros was struggling with the trunk and Stephanos was still too young to help him.  
“I'll catch up. “ Offering up a smile, she turned back to Claire. “I know when I arrived here, Solin enchanted this to make it lighter. It is possible for you to do same? I'd like to say goodbye to Devlan.”  
Claire nodded.  
Katrine's shoes echoed down the hallway, a welcome noise from the almost haunting silence of the cottage. Claire’s cottage was always full of noise now: laughter, conversations, and spell incantations. She couldn't stand it. She rapped lightly on the door.  
“Devlan?”  
Silence.  
“Devlan, please. I have to leave. I wanted to say goodbye.”  
Devlan sat on the other side of the door. He could hear her, but his mood had already settled in. He couldn't open the door now. It would just ruin things.  
“Devlan, please. It would mean a lot to me. I know I'm going to be back on Lethsday, but I won't get to see you everyday.”  
On the other side of the door Devlan's face lit up. She was going to be coming back! He threw the door open and threw his arms around her. He her eyes grew wide. She stood there for a moment, in shock, arms outstretched from the force. Devlan happily rested his chin on her shoulder and she loosely bought her arms around him.  
“Claire is keep my room open for me to stay over Lethsday night. You can always visit me at the store, too.”  
She pulled away and smiled. It was then he decided to go in for a kiss. He missed, and kissed her cheek. A flush ran through her whole body and she was suddenly very uncomfortable. Her eyes darted back down the hallway and the seemed to finally settle on her feet.  
“I should...probably go,” she said after a few moments of pounding silence. “I'll see you on Lethsday.”  
As she turned to go, Devlan closed the door behind him quietly. He threw himself on the bed, a wide grin creeping up his face.

 

Katrine found it took longer to acclimate herself to her home than she had expected. She was to share her old room with Ba'Lethi once again but she discovered it was difficult to sleep on an unfamiliar mattress with the woodsy-smelling bedclothes of Claire's. Her first night at home was a miserable one, and her first day in the shop wasn't much better. Her father had made it clear the day before that she was to take Pavlos' old position. Pavlos would ride out with his father after breakfast in the still dark to open the store. Stavros would count the cash drawer and mark it in his ledger, and do a quick inventory of the store while Pavlos would light the store, clean and straighten. In the evening, he walked back home by himself and Stavros would close.  
“I hope you can do all of this, Katrine,” Stavros said on their way to town the next morning.  
“I can try. If Pavlos can do it, I'm sure I can.”  
“It takes several days to get used to. Don't worry if you do something wrong.”  
He smiled and pulled on the reigns.  
“I know you have no desire to take over, but I'm going to treat it like an apprenticeship. I can't pay you. If I decide Thaddeus can take back his assistant spot, you will be free to finish your studies-unless you get accepted to Termogran first. This isn't a prison sentence, Katrine. I'm not keeping you against your will. Working's good for you. Most men appreciate a woman not afraid to get her hands dirty.”  
Katrine wished right then that the ground would swallow her up. She hated when her father mentioned what men found attractive. Her mother had been doing it so much lately. It always made her feel uncomfortable. The talk her mother insisted on having several weeks ago didn't help either.  
"You're thirteen now," her mother began. "I'm sure you've begun to feel things that hadn't been there before."  
"Mama, I really wish you wouldn't do this."  
"No, Kati, it's important. You're a bit old for this, but I forgot with Pavlos too. And you lived with Devlan for so long, you may not even need this."  
Her cheeks turned cherry, and as she asked Ardin to strike her dead, she finally figured out what her mother was trying to say.  
"Mama, I know you don't trust us, but I can assure you that whatever you think happened at Claire's did not. Claire was always checking on us. We were studying."  
"Pavlos had a girlfriend by the time he was your age; and you know how I worry."  
Katrine stared blankly at the window for several moments, while her mother nervously explained hormones and the mechanics. They sat in silence for several moments afterward before her mother spoke again.  
"Remember Kati, I'm always here if you want to ask any questions."

The rest of the trip was spent in silence. Stavros quartered the horses near the back and unlocked the door for Katrine. The gas lamps were dimly lit, but she ignored them and lit the stove. Spring mornings in Geil were cold and crisp, and the cast iron stove would keep the store comfortable throughout the day. She grabbed the stool behind the desk and began her task of turning up the lamps as Stavros began to count the money in the cash drawer. He disappeared into the office as she searched for a boom. She finally found one in the back hallway. As she swept, she wondered what her new job would bring.

Baron liSoa awoke at the crack of dawn. The family who owned the inn owned several chickens and a rooster, and he found it hard to sleep after it had begun crowing. He was glad for the rooster, however, for today was the day he was to visit the mine. He had heard a bit about it at home, Geilish silver was used all over the continent, but he didn't expect the enthusiasm. Shaa mines had dried up centuries ago, the towns that had sprouted up around them becoming little more than ghost towns. He slid on his slippers and stepped out of the bed, pulling the velvet string near his bedside that altered the kitchen that he was ready for breakfast. He slid on his long wrap and threw open the heavy curtains.  
Thelios was bustling. It reminded him of market day in Soa. Lamps flickered in the windows. And one by one smoke billowed from the chimneys. He had never seen it so busy. He wondered if it really was market day. A curt rapping on the door drew his attention away from the window. A tall boy stood at the door, holding a tray; Braden's brother, he assumed.  
“Good morning, my lord. Eggs, bacon, porridge and hot tea.”  
“Thank you,” Tien said, taking the tray. The boy bowed deeply and pulled the door closed. Baron liSoa poured some tea into the gold-rimmed teacup and stirred in a bit of fresh cream. He could get used to living here, he thought as he dropped a pat of butter into the porridge.  
A short time later, he stepped out from the private door, his long burgundy coat blowing in the breeze. Today he was to visit the mine, and he had to admit he was excited. He'd never been to a mine before, and he was strongly advised, several days before his departure, to visit “Geil's' Only Treasure.” He should have thrown out that adviser, and made a note to not include him in the staff that was to travel with him when his manor was finished.  
He declined an escort from the inn to the mine. The entrance wasn't far and he wanted to enjoy the beautiful spring air. Baron liSoa was met by a gruff looking man by the out building. His dark beard was greying and his brown eyes had a hardness that only a life of manual labor could bring. Tien quite thought he resembled a dwarf.  
“You the Baron?” he asked.  
Baron liSoa bowed deeply.  
“I am, good sir! You must be the foreman.”  
“Put this on.” The foreman handed the baron a cloth miners cap. “Are ye sure ye want to go in that?” He motioned to the long coat.  
“What would suggest I wear?” Tien asked, sliding off the heavy coat.  
“That'll be fine,” the foreman said. He shook his head. Baron liSoa stood in front of him in his best clothes. His brown and gold embroidered waistcoat had never been worn and he still carried his pistol and shooting supplies.  
“You won't need dem either. Leave 'em here by the gatehouse and you can get 'em when you get back.”  
Now the baron felt a fool. Surely he had his old military things in storage, he could have taken them. Although he wasn't sure what good an old navy uniform would be, in hindsight.  
“Name's Pello. Take this.”  
A cast-iron lantern was thrust into his hand. Pello had just lit it.  
“Watch me and try not to get lost,” was all the foreman said before heading down into the dark.  
The sight before him was unlike anything he had ever seen. Men huddled around one strain of silver, hacking at it with pickaxes. A woman with a wheelbarrow rushed by him.  
“Welcome to the Royal Valencia Silver Mine,” Pello announced, his voice bouncing off the walls. He coughed so hard he fell to one knee. The baron reached out to him and helped him regain his balance. “Mind the rocks, and silver dust. We'll be going this way.”  
Pello turned right down another tunnel. Tien held his lantern out in front of him. The wall glittered with veins of silver.  
“Have you tried mining here?” he asked, motioning to the wall.  
“That vein is unobtainable. If the dwarves would open their borders again, we would have use of their advanced explosives, but things being as they are, it's unsafe.”  
Pello shrugged and continued on. At the next “y” tunnel, he took a left. Another woman pushing a wheelbarrow forced him to one side. Rocks crunched beneath his feet and it was then he noticed water running along the walls.  
“Pello!” Baron liSoa called. “Tell me about this water. Where is it going? Where did it come from?”  
The foreman stopped abruptly. This noble had so many questions. He sighed and turned around.  
"The water comes from the rock. Water trickles down through the soil when it rains, and as you know, we're inside the mountain. As we chip away at the rock, water comes out with it. The mine was dug out by dwarves many centuries ago, and they built the mine to match the natural incline of the earth, so very rarely do we have to pump out the water.”  
Tien nodded.  
“Forgive me for asking so many questions, but where are we going?”  
“As I'm sure the big continent is aware, a new strain of silver has been discovered.” There was contempt in the foreman's voice, and instantly Baron liSoa understood the hatred of him. His kind had not been good to the island. “It's deep within the mine, in a forgotten area.”  
The baron had realized that Pello had stopped right then.  
“There's a great deal more walking ahead, and I'm sure you'll want a break.”  
“I feel fine. Why don’t you trust me?” Tien finally asked.  
“If you don't already know, there's no point in telling you,” Pello replied, curtly.  
“I'm curious about the mine for my own benefit,” the baron replied. “I plan on settling here and I know that the Geilish and the mountains are proud of the mine.”  
That seemed to soften Pello up a bit, and the hardness in his eyes disappeared.  
“Every six months or so, nobles from Shaa working for Queen Ruthia come to visit. Every time, they threaten to shut us down.”  
“I will never resort to those scare tactics. I chose to visit because I'm genuinely curious. Now let's see that new vein you mentioned.”

Tien noticed Pello had become a bit easier to talk to. He didn't make small talk, it wasn't his style, but he did answer question quicker and without contempt. Pello took a right at the next y-crossing, and Tien saw the vein before he saw the miners. Lanterns were hung from pegs in the stone wall. The light reflected off the silver, bathing the cavern in a golden-white glow.  
“This is silver in its purest form,” Pello began, hanging his lantern off an empty peg. “Most of the silver we find has to be refined, but this must be a gift from the goddess herself.”  
Tien couldn't believe it. It was a pillar as thick as it was wide. It was enough to make Geil one of the richest islands in the world.  
“How does one even stumble onto something like this?” he asked as several of the miners working on the column stopped to look him over.  
“We have limited knowledge of explosives, and what little we do have we use.”  
Somewhere in front of them came an explosion and the ceiling rattled.  
“Someone on our night shift went exploring, which we frown upon. This area has been closed up for some time, but he took some black powder and found this.”  
Several rocks fell from the ceiling, freed from the explosion. Pello pushed the baron back against the wall. The rest of the miners carried on as if nothing had happened.  
“This is what dem Shaa nobles want. With the mine closed, they can take all the profits for themselves. Would ye like to continue on, or have you seen enough?”  
“This has been informative, thank you Pello,” Baron liSoa tried bowing again, but a big man with a wheelbarrow pushed by him. He muttered something under his breath. “I think we should head back to the surface.”  
The trip back was silent. Tien's feet hurt and we wanted to get back to his room. The new waistcoat had been a mistake. He'd have to ask that girl to wash it.  
“I have no plan to close this mine,” he announced, setting the leather cap near his heavy coat. His wide-brimmed hat sat next to his flintlock and black powder, and he tilted it to one side. “Be safe.”  
He turned and walked back to town, a slight limp in his step. Pello shook his head and grabbed a pickaxe from the smithing table.  
Later, Baron liSoa relaxed in a wing-backed chair in the sitting room of his suite. Artan and Sionn, his older son, had dragged a heavy wooden pail into the room and filled it with water. A small table sat beside him with a pot of rose tea. A hot towel lay over his forehead and Artan's wife Ceridwen was chatting happily.  
“Are you sure I'm not bothersome?” she kept asking.  
“Never,” the baron replied with a smile. “I've grown so lonesome here these last few days. Besides, you have such a wonderful accent.”  
Ceridwen blushed.  
“But we speak the same language.”  
“Not entirely!” Baron liSoa was sipping his tea. “You are actually speaking an ancient dialect. Isn't that amazing!”  
Ceridwen nodded knowingly and then stood.  
“Are you feeling better, my lord? Shall I fetch the towel?”  
“Thank you, Ceridwen.” The baron removed the now-cooled towel on the tray with the teapot and sat up.  
Ceridwen returned with the towel and set it near the pail. She patted his feet dry and reached for his slippers.  
“I'll have Artan and Sionn come and remove this at once.”  
“That won't be necessary. They can come whenever it's convenient for them. I'll be out anyway.”  
Ceridwen bowed and Tien crossed to his bedchamber. He threw open his wardrobe, and settled his blue and silver. He had yet to wear his silver-lined coat outside of noble functions. He threw his shirt in the corner to be washed and slid on his formal frill. He had somewhere to go.

 

The shop he was visiting looked like most of the others in the town center. But this one was different. He opened the door slowly. A comely blonde girl behind the counter greeted him.  
“Is your father in?” he asked.  
“He's in his office, I'll get him for you.”  
She disappeared the door, and he was hardly able to begin perusing when a blond man in his early thirties stepped out from behind it.  
“Baron liSoa! Please, won't you come in? We've got business to discuss.”  
Katrine watched the man follow her father into his office. She had to wonder her father's business with a man dressed like that. He had silver thread on his coat! She had only ever seen silver thread once, and it was so expensive, her father had to sell it at a discount. Maybe it was that noble from Shaa she had seen last fall. He had to be. No one in Geil would be caught dead in a coat like that.

It was already dark when Katrine arrived home. Her feet hurt and she longed for the smell of lavender tea and the company of Devlan. She couldn't think of a time she had ever been this tired. Her mother was pulling her supper from the oven as she slid into a kitchen chair, exhausted.  
“Eat quickly,” her mother said quietly. “You have a guest in the sitting room.”  
“Can't I even change?” Katrine protested. “I've been in this dress since sunup. It smells of dust and kerosene.”  
She ate her supper in silence, wondering who could possibly by visiting her. Devlan would never care for any of the pomp of being a formal guest and would have chosen instead to sit with her while she ate. She had no other friends. It was then she realized how quiet the house was. She had heard nothing of Iraia and Callais.  
“Mama, where is everyone?”  
“Ba'Lethi's got them in the dining room. I told her you were not to be disturbed.”  
“Mama, who is in the sitting room?” she asked again.  
“Your future,” Nadia beaned, Katrine slid out of her chair and pulled the door to the dining room open. The younger children were excited to see their sister, but Ba'Lethi was quick to quiet them. She opened the other door that connected the dining room to the sitting room. On the chair in the far corner sat the man from the shop.  
“Why is he here?” Katrine asked her mother once the were back in the kitchen.  
“Commodore Tien liSoa Zimpter. He is a baron from Shaa and was in the Queen's Navy.”  
“Why are you telling me all this?”  
“He and your father have been in negotiations for the last six months. He has expressed interest in marrying you.”  
“I am thirteen years old!” She didn't mean to shout that. “I'm hardly ready to marry.”  
“He said he'd wait until your fifteenth birthday. For the next year and a half, you would be promised to him.”  
Nadia couldn't tell if the look on her daughter's face was anger or confusion.  
“You should get ready, Kati. We wouldn't want to keep him waiting for much longer. Use the back stairway and I'll boil water for tea."  
Katrine stood in front of her wardrobe, the oak doors wide open. She knew her mother would want her to wear that light green skirt and dark green coat with the side buttons they bought for the festival dance. Sighing heavily, she brought her foot to the footstool. After several tries and several broken hatpins, Katrine walked carefully down the front stars. The man in the corner, having caught her eye, stood from his chair and bowed deeply.  
“Miss deMiil,” he said with a smile. He was standing. “Please, won't you sit down?”  
He offered her the embroidered high-backed chair across from him. ‘It's my house, she thought. I'll sit where I please.’  
He hadn't changed, she noticed, as she sat stiffly. He was dressed in blue breeches, brown boots that sat just below the knee, a white waistcoat with silver along the buttons and a blue silver-lined coat. His dark brown hair was recently cut and pulled back with a ribbon. His wide brimmed hat was bunched up on one side, with feathers sticking out of it. He removed it and set it on the floor next to his chair. He bowed and then sat down. She suddenly felt very plain.  
“Tea?” he asked. She nodded and was handed a floral cup and saucer- her mother's best tea set.  
“I'm sure you're wondering why a strange man is sitting in your sitting room. Your father and I have to come to an agreement.”  
“I know all this,” Katrine blurted out. “But you haven't even asked my name. It's Katrine.”  
“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” He sipped his tea and that's when Katrine realized she was blushing.  
“Forgive me, I've not introduced myself.” He stood again, and bowed. “I am Commodore Tien liSoa Zimpter, first baron of Soa, Valencia province.”  
“I'm Katrine. Katrine Iros.”  
He took her hand and brought it to his lips. She flushed and looked away. They both sat and he picked up the conversation right where she had left off.  
“Your suffix, it's very peculiar. Could you tell me about it?”  
Katrine sipped her tea and thought. This was the first time anyone had asked her about it.  
“We were once royalty...Geil had its own king, you know.”  
She set her teacup down gently on the table and continued on. She sighed. It was a chore; he looked ridiculous for starters. Also, the nerve of him, coming into her house and telling her what to do. ‘How did he ever stumble upon this place’, she wondered. She wished he’d stumble right back.  
“DeMiil means 'of Miithos' in the old language. As you know, Geil has no need for king, but King Alhren vo Alanari unified this province over a thousand year ago. King Rottham was a terrible king and we sought our own freedom. Descendants of the kings- deMiils have scattered throughout Geil. We're just regular people now.”   
She was only keeping up the conversation because she could see her mother from the kitchen and knew she was listening to every word. Maybe if he knew she was nothing special, he’d go back to his big house and fancy clothes and leave her to the simple Geilish life she desired.  
Baron liSoa chuckled and offered up more tea. She declined.  
“That's quite a history,” he began. “I'm new to nobility myself. The queen gifted the barony of Soa to me after it became apparent the current baron was inept.”  
“But you said you were the first baron...”  
Her mother entered with a plate of butter cookies.  
“I am. The previous baron ran his own independent barony. When Queen Ruthia gifted Soa to me, it ceased to be independent.”  
“What did you do to get it as a gift?”  
“Well, Kat.” She groaned. That was Mathias' nickname.. She wasn't overly fond of it. “I led the fleet that destroyed the incoming Z'Hadran forces off the coast of Royal Isle.”  
Katrine nodded, reaching for a cookie.  
“But that's enough about me. Tell me about yourself.”  
She had the urge to tell him she could ignite him with merely a word. She decided against it, it was something he could learn later.  
“I've recently come home. Da needs me to run the store, but I'd much rather be studying.”  
“Marvelous!” Baron liSoa exclaimed. “What are you studying? I can send you for the best tutor during the betrothal if you'd like to continue until fifteen.”  
With a wave of her hand and a puff of steam, Baron liSoa’s tea began bubbling. He nearly dropped the teacup.  
“You're a sorceress? How wonderful! I thought there were none left. Does The Great One teach you?”  
“The Great One?”  
“Solin. He's friends with the queen. It would be an honor to be taught by such a great wizard.”  
Katrine opened her mouth, and then closed it. She glanced at the clock on the wall. A quarter of an hour had passed.  
“He's a family friend,” she said after a few moments. “But he's not my instructor. I'm almost done with my studies. I'm just waiting on word from Termogran. If I'm accepted, I'd like to finish the full year.”  
The baron nodded.  
“I will always make sure my wife has what she desires.”  
He stood and bowed deeply.  
“And now I shall leave you. I'd like to meet you again, perhaps Lethsday?”  
“Very well!” She could hardly hear herself.  
He reached for his hat and stood as he cocked it to one side.  
“It was a pleasure to meet you Kat. I would like to converse with your mother before I leave. Could you retrieve her for me?”  
That night, Katrine lay in her bed awake. Ba'Lethi had just turned down the lamp.  
“Was he nice?” she asked. Katrine continued to stare at the ceiling.  
“Yeah, I just wish I understood why Mama and Da did this?”  
“He's so handsome! And kind.”  
“I just don't know how to feel,” Katrine admitted. “I know Mama and Da are trying to do what's best, but I want to have a say in the matter. I don't want to get married. Not for a long time."

 

He was waiting for her when she left for home several days later. In one arm, he held a bouquet of long-stemmed Geilish daylilies and Goddess Delights. He smiled when she stepped through the door.  
“Baron liSoa? What are you doing here?”  
“Please, call me Tien. I know, it's an awful name. These are for you. I thought you could do the honors of escorting me around town.”  
“Thank you for the flowers. Let me just drop them off with my da.”  
The tiny bell on the door rang as she stepped through the doorway once again.  
“Da? Da?” she called. “ Baron liSoa left these for me. Could you bring them home? Maybe Mama could put them in water for me?”  
“Of course,” came the voice behind the door. As his daughter left, Stavros stood and poured himself a glass of bourbon, to celebrate.  
“What did you need me to tell you about?” she asked as the door closed behind her. He propped out one elbow and she took it.  
“Nothing,” he said with a smile. “I wish to know more about you. To see the town through your eyes.”  
“You're going to live here?” Her eyebrows were raised in a question.  
“For the summer, yes. I tire of the hustle of the city. I find Thelios quite desirable for relaxing.”  
He paused. Several girls walked by, waving handkerchiefs. They scowled when they saw Katrine.  
“Ignore them,” he said with a smile. “So tell me, Kat. What is your favorite flower?”  
‘What an odd question’, Katrine thought. This man certainly was unusual.  
“Miithosi moon-flowers,” she said without thinking. “Although they're quite rare and only bloom at night. I saw them on display at a shop once.”  
“Wonderful! I will order some presently!”  
“Geilish sunblossoms are also quite pretty. Those daylilies you brought me are lovely!”  
“We will have a lovely garden!” he exclaimed. “I would like to show you my palatial estate. It's far from finished, but it will be by the time we marry. Perhaps next time? I don't suppose you know how to ride a horse?”


	8. Untitled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Katrine agrees to something she barely understands, Devlan must come to terms with his own feelings.

Chapter 8-

Katrine sat uncomfortably in a hard-backed chair in her family's sitting room. In the matching chair next to her sat Baron liSoa, dressed in his very best visiting clothes, tea cup and saucer balanced precariously in his left hand. Her parents sat across from them, dressed in festival clothes. A faint noise wafted into the room. Ba'Lethi was watching the children, and their voices carried down the hall.  
“Baron liSoa,” Stavros began. “It is now Heavy Boughs. Have you arrived at a decision?”  
“I think I have, Mr. Iros.” He smiled and stood, setting his tea cup on the table. “Mister and Madame Iros, with your blessing, I would like to marry your daughter.”  
“Katrine?” her mother asked. “How do you feel about this?”  
The baron turned to face Katrine.  
“He's not terrible.” She smiled meekly. “He's kind, and pleasant to talk to. I know that I want to finish up my schooling at Termogran, and he'll let me do that.”  
“Will you have me?” he asked, bending down on one knee and taking her hand.  
“Yes,” she said quietly.  
“I know it's far too early to speak of such things, but we shall be married next summer, sometime after Katrine's fifteenth birthday.”  
“You've decided already,” Her father sounded amused.  
“Fifteen is traditional marriage age in Shaa,” the baron replied. “Is it different here?”  
“I was married at eighteen, but I joined the army to help fight against the royalists,” her father stated. “But many others marry at fourteen, or once a girl reaches womanhood.”  
Her mother gave her a look and Katrine wished the floor would swallow her up right then.  
“I'm not discussing this here!” she whispered loudly to her mother.  
Baron liSoa cleared his throat.  
“This is a delicate matter. Which is best discussed elsewhere. I shall take my leave, unless there is anything that must be discussed.”  
“Perhaps we should bring this discussion to my study?” Stavros asked, standing. “Nadia, Katrine, is there anything you would like to say before the baron is lost to the brandy?”  
Neither spoke a word.  
“We will speak later, my darling.” Baron liSoa reached for Katrine's hand and planted a light kiss on it. Shivers ran up her spine and she smiled through her blush before she started up the stairs.

“I believe there is the matter of payment to discuss,” Stavros began after the baron had a seat. He pulled the best brandy from the cabinet.  
“I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with the Geilish dowry system,” Baron liSoa began. He accepted the glass Stavros offered.  
“The Geilish dowry system is all a bit confusing,” Stavros began, propping his feet on a corner of his desk. “The betrothed and their family chooses between a dowry or no dowry, depending on the family's needs, it varies by family and by the sex of the child.”  
“And what is it you need most, Stavros Iros?”  
“My son left us last year, and shortly thereafter, we were robbed. What I need the most is money. I thought that was our agreement.”  
“It was,” Baron liSoa drained his cup. “But you have a very pleasant daughter, who loves her family and friends very much, and I care for her deeply. I would hate for her to learn her father has sold her to the highest bidder.”  
He reached for the carafe Stavros left on his desk and filled his empty glass.  
“My lord,” Stavros started.  
“Please, call me Tien.”  
“Tien, please understand. I am not selling Katrine. She could very well change her mind and I would give you what you paid. She is aware of customs and she hates working at the store. I have no question you will make her happy.”  
And so a deal was struck: 15000 gaels for Stavros' oldest daughter. They shook on it, and Stavros broke out the good bourbon to celebrate.

Upstairs, Katrine was enduring the most embarrassing questions of her life.   
“Have you begun your monthlies yet?” Nadia asked kindly as Katrine was frantically pulling out her hat pins so she could hide behind her large hat.  
“I can't believe you brought that up in front of the man who is to be my husband!” she exclaimed, pulling the hat free and falling back on the bed.  
“There should be no secrets in marriage,” her mother said, her eyes misty. “I love you Katrine. Never forget that.”  
Nadia pulled her daughter close, tears freely falling down her cheeks.  
“I don't understand, Mama,” Katrine asked as she pulled away. “Why does anyone need to know when my monthlies are?”  
“It will help you time pregnancies.” Nadia said. “Knowing when your cycles are will help you space out children at manageable intervals.”  
“Da said girls don't marry until they've reached womanhood,” Katrine paused nervously, green eyes darting back and forth. Her mother waited patiently for her to continue. “But I've not started them yet.”  
“It's a year engagement, at the very least,” her mother replied. “Perhaps by next year, you will have, and if no, you may bring it up to the baron. He's obligated to wait until you've fully matured.”  
“I hope he's gentle,” Katrine mused. “I hope I haven't made a mistake.”

“And what if Katrine declines, before the wedding?” Tien liSoa Zimpter was asking. He was now well into his cups and had posed to question to Stavros in jest.   
“Her sister will be quite lovely,” Stavros replied without missing a beat. “She's twelve, but she'll be fourteen by the wedding.”  
“My good man, I won't need her sister. In fact, no one but Katrine will do.”

 

It was over supper the next night that news of Katrine's engagement was announced.  
“You're leaving us?” Ba'Lethi asked.  
“Not until the end of summer. My lord will be throwing galas that he will expect me to be present at, but I'm not move to into Rosevale until the fall.”  
“My lord” Stefanos repeated his sister. He was seven and had been reading fairy tales. His mind was full of dragons, knights, and adventure.  
“It's what's expected,” Katrine answered, a blush creeping over her cheeks.  
“Have you kissed him yet?” Ba'Lethi asked in a half-whisper, blushing. Half the table erupted into giggles.  
“That's enough!” Stavros' voice erupted, causing instant silence. “We'll not talk of such things right now. Your sister is doing a great service to her family.”

Several days later, Baron liSoa arrived with a boy from the inn.  
“Where would you like this?” the boy asked, motioning to the rosewood chest.   
“What's all this?” Nadia was wiping her hands on her apron as Baron liSoa stepped into the sitting room.  
“Is Katrine home?”he asked, noticing how quiet the house was.  
“No, she's at Claire? Shall I get her?”  
“Perhaps I'll visit. Could I bring these to her room?”   
“It's right up the stairs and to the left,” Nadia motioned with her left arm.  
“I would like to visit her, at Claire's. Is it just through the woods?”  
“There's a small bridge over the river from here. You can't miss it.”

Katrine and Devlan had just finished with lunch a knock came on the door. Claire had gone to her garden, to prepare for Katrine's potion lesson and Devlan was going to the library. He sighed when there was a knock on the door.  
“It's alright,” Katrine said with a smile. “I”ll get the door, you go get the necessary books.”  
She pulled the door open. The baron smiled.  
“M-my lord? she asked. “What are you doing here? I've got lessons today.”  
“He’s here?!” Devlan yelled, turning so fast on the stair that he nearly fell backward.  
“A man shouldn't need a reason to visit his betrothed.”  
Devlan was frozen. Betrothed? She hadn't told him this yet.  
“We just finished lunch, but I suppose you could come in?” She motioned to the couch. “Would you like some tea?”  
“Oh, please, don't trouble yourself on my behalf. Please, just join me on the couch.”  
She set the tea canister down on the counter and sat on the edge of the couch, near the arm.  
“Devlan and I were just going to study; we expect our letter from Termogran any day now.  
“You're excited, I bet.”  
“I am. I haven't decided what I'm going to do with any of it yet, but I'm hoping I can talk to someone at Termogran about it.”  
Devlan's ear was pressed against the library door so hard that it hurt. Katrine was never this soft-spoken and he had to strain to hear what she was saying.   
“I've brought over a trunk,” the baron was saying. “It's sitting in your room. I would like to announce our engagement formally to the Queen and all of Shaa. Several months ago, using your measurements, I ordered you some silk dresses from Shiara. They cost a small fortune, but a girl like you deserves nothing less.”  
He took her hand and kissed it. Behind the basement door, Devlan was retching.  
“Within the week, a small armada of ships will come and bring us back to Shaa.”  
“I would like to bring Devlan along. It wouldn't be right to leave him here, and I bet he'd enjoy the parties too.”  
“I wouldn't dream of making you leave your friend behind. Anything my betrothed desires.”  
He stood and dropped into a sweeping bow. Her cheeks grew red.  
“But I really must be going. I will see you again very soon.”  
He reached for her hand and kissed it. Once again, Katrine looked around nervously. She thought she heard Claire come in. Devlan waited patiently behind the door until he could be sure the baron had left. Opening the door slightly, he looked around. Claire hadn't returned yet and Katrine was sitting alone on the couch. He took a deep breath and stepped forward.  
“When were you going to tell me you were going to get married?” he demanded, throwing the door to the basement library open.  
“I told you a few weeks ago, at supper,” she fought back.  
“You said you were thinking about it,” Devlan emphasized thinking so forcefully that she was taken aback.  
“I don't have to tell you anything!” She was screaming.  
“You're choosing him over me?”   
“You can find your own way to Shaa. I'm done having this conversation with you.”  
She stormed out, slamming the front door so hard the entire cottage shook. Devlan let out a scream of frustration and ran up to his room. The door closed behind him and threw himself on the bed, crying out his anger.

Katrine left Claire's that night in tears. She arrived home and without saying a word, began packing her things.   
“I can't pretend I know what's wrong,” her mother said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Why don't you tell me?”  
“It's Devlan,” Katrine threw her dresses onto the bed. “Baron liSoa came to see me at Claire's, to talk about dresses. When he left, Devlan cornered me and demanded I tell him why I didn't choose him. As if that mattered.”  
“What did you tell him?” Nadia had watched Devlan warm up to her family over the years and this behavior was strange.  
“That I wasn't having this conversation any longer.”  
Katrine was standing by the wardrobe, heavy doors open, studying her shoes.  
“Which ones should I take?” She held up several pair and laid them out on the bed next to her dresses.  
“He's been so possessive lately,” Katrine pulled open the top drawer. “I belong to no one-Baron liSoa won't own me and neither will Devlan.”  
She pulled out a pair of breeches-one of Pavlos' last pair.  
“I wonder if I'll be able to wear these.”  
She shrugged and rolled them up, placing them in the back of her trunk. A knock came at the back door, and Ba'Lethi could be heard chatting happily. Katrine groaned.  
“Kati!” her sister yelled up the stairs. “Devlan's here to see you!”  
“I don't want to talk to him!” she shouted back, slamming the drawer shut.  
Her mother offered advice: “You don't want to leave angry.”  
“I know,” Katrine groaned. “But I'm still mad.”  
“Katrine, look at me,” her mother cupped her face before she stood. “You're going to be a baroness one day, and you will encounter people who will make you so angry, but you will have to hold a smile and treat them civilly, even though you don't want to. It's what adulthood is all about.”  
Katrine sighed and stood. She straightened her posture and held a smile. She was screaming inside, but her mother was right, she should start practicing now; one day it would have to come naturally.  
“Hello Devlan,” she said coolly, sauntering down the back stairs. I'm sorry, I was packing and didn't hear you come in.”   
“I'm sorry for earlier.” He hadn't wanted to come back at all, but he had just received his letter and Claire told him the trip would be good for him. “I just don't like the baron-but I need to get to Shaa and I'm wondering if I could come with you?”  
“It doesn't matter if you like him or not.” Her voice sounded strange, too formal. “I've made my decision and you'll have to respect it. I will ask Baron liSoa if I may bring you along.”  
She turned on her heel and walked slowly back up the stairs she peered through the crack as she closed the door. Devlan was left standing by the backdoor, dumbstruck. She threw herself on her sister's bed and cried. 

Baron liSoa arrived at the Iros homestead early the next morning with two young men from the inn in tow.   
“Good morning!” his mid-range voice boomed through the front room.   
“Good morning, Baron liSoa!” Nadia came from the kitchen, baby on one hip. “Katrine is upstairs, finishing her packing. She should be down shortly. Could I offer you some breakfast?”  
“Thank you, but it's really not necessary,” he began.  
“Please. I insist. Your servants too. Please take a seat, and it will be up presently.”  
Twenty minutes later, Nadia emerged from the with kitchen, eggs, bacon, porridge, apple bread and dark tea. Tien was becoming accustomed to traditional Geilish bread and he made a note to visit a tailor on his trip back to Shaa. All this heavy food was take a toll on his breeches. The men Ardal lent him were hungry, and wasted no time splitting the food between them. They were to drive the carriage to Míla and return when the baron and his betrothed were safely on the ship. There was a thud a moment later, followed by a curse. The faint sound of dragging could be heard for several moments, then another thud. After the pause, footsteps.  
“Katrine! Good morning!” Baron liSoa stood until Katrine sat down next to him in a high backed chair.   
“Please, have some breakfast. I've not yet eaten; you can share.”  
“I've already eaten. Thank you, my lord.”  
She motioned to the two men eating heartily.  
“Who are these men?”  
“Therius and Asthore. They will insure we arrive at Mìla safely.”  
“My lord, if I may?”  
“Yes Kat, anything you desire.”  
“My friend Devlan would like to come along. You see, he's already received his letter for Termogran, and would be going that way. He won't be a bother...”  
“Of course!” the Baron's voice boomed loudly echoing off the walls.  
“I can get him, if it's not too much trouble,” she went on to say.  
“Therius, Asthore, if you would, please. The lady needs assistance with her trunk.”  
He motioned to the front stairway. The men stood, wiping their faces, turned to Katrine, and bowed. As they disappeared up the stairs, Baron liSoa turned to Katrine.  
“I understand you would like to say goodbye to your family, and I realize I have arrived early. It will take a while for everything to get situated.”  
There was a thump on the stairway and Nadia was yelling.  
“The back stairway is easier!”  
“Da is closing the store at noon, and Ba'Lethi's got the children down by the river.”  
“Are those your traveling clothes?” he asked and Katrine felt her cheeks flush.  
“Are they too fancy?” she asked. “This is the nicest dress I own.”  
She was wearing a brand new store bought light blue dress with a square neckline, with three-quarter sleeves with lace around the edges, buttons and a matching skirt. The skirt hung to her ankles, and her new shoes were cream colored pumps with a strap. She was bare-headed, but Nadia helped her pull her hair up into a style much too older for her.  
“Mama said I should nice for my trip,” she smiled.  
The baron returned her smile. “Your mother is a wise woman. You look so lovely, it'd be a shame to ruin it."  
He smiled and brought her into a chaste embrace.

 

Katrine stepped carefully over the foot stones that led her to Claire's. It had been several days since she had talked to Devlan; more than enough time for him to cool down. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake. She stood at the front door and noticed no one was in the clearing. She turned the handle. Devlan was sitting in the kitchen, on his upturned trunk.  
“I”m sorry, Katrine!” he blurted.  
“I've already forgiven you,” she said, pulling him off his trunk into a warm embrace. “This is a hard time for all of us.”  
She pulled away.  
“I'm here to pick you up.”  
“What are we supposed to do with this?” Devlan asked, motioning to the trunk.  
“I don't know.” She paused. “Have you seen Claire? I want to say goodbye.  
“She's out in the garden. I think she's been dreading today.”  
In truth, she was. Early in the day, Claire retreated, basket in one arm and garden trimmer in the other, to her back garden. She told him she was going to do some gardening. When she thought Devlan couldn't see her, she let the tears flow freely. It had been a long time since any student had impacted her the way Katrine had. Devlan too, she thought, but Katrine had a fire and a passion for learning that she hadn't seen in a long time.  
“Claire?” a familiar voice came from behind her and she dropped her shears.  
“Katrine!” She dropped her gloves in the basket, and turned. The girl in the garden looked so much older than the student she had just left.  
“I couldn't leave without saying goodbye.” Katrine's voice wavered.  
“I'll miss you both so much,” the other woman said, suddenly throwing her arms around the girl. “I”m positive you'll learn much at Termogran.”  
“But Claire,” she said, pulling away. “I haven't received my letter yet.”  
“Oh, I knew you'd be traveling soon, and I informed them of your new address. I wish you well in your new life.”  
“Don't forget me,” Katrine said as Claire pulled back into a hug.  
“Katrine, no one could forget you.”  
By the time Stavros arrived home, the living room was full of goodbyes. Devlan stood next to Therius and Asthore, shifting uncomfortably.  
“Oh Da, I was afraid you wouldn't come.”  
“And see my daughter off on the eve of her new life? Of course not."  
Baron liSoa stood next to Katrine, following her as she moved about the room.  
“This is your husband?” Stephanos asked, trying to bow.  
The baron knelt down to be eye level with the boy. He tousled his sandy curls with a smile and stood again.  
“Take good care of my daughter,” Stavros said with a handshake and a glare. Baron liSoa pulled him into a deep hug. “Make her happy.”  
“Oh, I intend to,” he said with a smile.  
“Katrine will make a wonderful wife,” Nadia was wiping tears from her eyes.  
“I don't doubt that. She's had a wonderful mother to learn from.”  
Sobbing, Nadia drew Katrine to her tightly.  
“Never forget that I love you.”  
“I won't, mama.” Katrine pulled away. “I'll write you all, I promise.”  
“Are we off, then?” Baron liSoa asked, clasping his hands together. “Are all the goodbyes in order?”  
“I'll miss you,” Katrine called. The baron touched the small of her back and ushered her to the door. He nodded to Therius and Asthore to follow and they hefted Devlan's heavy trunk onto their shoulders.   
“I love you call,” Katrine was calling from outside. “I promise I'll write.”  
The carriage awaiting Katrine was the finest in all of Thelios. It was enclosed, all stained rosewood and gold trim with windows and a door that opened outward.  
“Oh Tien!” Katrine exclaimed. “I didn't even know a carriage this beautiful existed here in town!”  
Devlan rolled his eyes.  
“I was told it was part of 'The Queen's Royal Procession', if she was ever to visit. It was the carriage the princesses would sit in.”  
“But not the queen,” she said with a sly grin.  
“No,” the baron said, defeated. “As a fantastic example of Geilish craftsmanship and metalwork, it has been kept on display outside of the Queen's Royal Inn. I'm very sorry. Please. Forgive me for not finding you very best.”  
He bowed deeply, and Devlan had to keep himself from falling over from laughter.

“My lord, you outdo yourself. I'm sure this will make for a pleasant journey.”  
Baron liSoa outstretched his hand and she took it, delicately stepping onto the gilded steps. He motioned to Devlan.  
“After you.”  
The carriage interior was sparsely decorated. Cream-colored wallpaper with burgundy roses covered the walls. A small painting hung on one side, depicting a scene of Geil's many rivers. A small rounded one on the other side depicted a typical autumn-time bonfire, and as Katrine slid onto the soft leather seats, it was then she realized all the things she'd never see again. When Baron liSoa slammed the carriage door, she realized she was crying.  
“Katrine?” he asked, noting how Devlan behaved across from them. He was going to be a problem. “My love, are you well?”  
Asthore tugged on the reins, and the carriage rocked forward.  
“Yes, yes, I'm fine. “ she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands, ignoring the handkerchief the baron had pulled from his coat pocket. “I'm just realizing there will be things that I will never do here again.”  
She motioned to the picture of the bonfire hanging above Devlan's head.  
“Kat, we will be here again.” He pulled her into a warm embrace. Devlan pushed his face against the glass. “You have seen Marble Spires We can have a Geilish summer like you’re used to!”  
'But not like that,' she thought. 'I'm sure it's unbecoming of a noble woman to dance around a bonfire like the warriors of old.'  
Devlan shifted uncomfortably, and stared out the window.  
“You're not going to be like this the whole trip, are you?” he muttered.  
Katrine heard him, and quickly pulled away, a light blush creeping up her cheeks.   
They had barely made it out of town when the carriage lurched forward and then came to a stop.  
“Why have we stopped?” the baron demanded, sticking his head out the door.  
“I must speak with Katrine Iros!” a voice called from the front of the carriage.  
“Miss, please,” Asthore was pleading. “We are on a very tight schedule. I must ask you to remove yourself from the road.”  
“I know she's in this carriage! I must speak with her!”  
Baron liSoa was out of the carriage before Therius could even stumble down from the driver's seat.  
“You,” he breathed. “I've seen you before- you're that thief! Why would I let you on this carriage with my betrothed?”  
“Please!” Ruby pleaded. “Katrine is in grave danger! If you must, tell her Solin sent me- I may be a thief, but I'm not a liar.”  
“Asthore, Therius, please watch her closely. I must converse with Katrine.”  
After what seemed like an eternity, Baron liSoa exited the carriage.  
“She seems to believe you. I have trouble believing that the Great One sent you, but as he's a friend of her family's, it would be rude of me to turn you away. Asthore, Therius, take her bags.”  
Ruby slipped off her satchel and threw it at the brown-haired man. She smiled when his hand brushed hers. Pursing his lips, Baron liSoa cocked out one elbow. Ruby smiled almost too sweetly and stepped proudly on the gilded step. Devlan slid over uncomfortably while Ruby took up most of the seat. Baron liSoa nodded to the men and they climbed back onto the bench. The carriage door closed and he sat back down.  
“Katrine Iros!” Ruby exclaimed, thrusting her hand out into the blonde's face. “Ruby Dane. Solin set me.”  
Her legs were spread out so wide, Devlan was pressed against the side. Katrine didn't know what to make of this girl: laced shoes, with a waistcoat that hung almost past her knees, and ratty looking breeches, topped with a mass of curly red hair. She could see the dagger at her thigh and wonders what this girl was about. Apprehensively, she shook her hand.  
“Why did Solin send you?” Katrine asked.  
“He just said that you'd need my help, and told me how to find you.”  
“And you're to accompany us to Soa?” Baron liSoa asked.  
“I will accompany you until I am no longer needed.”  
She paused, looking between the three.  
“Solin never mentioned anything about a betrothal. Or was I supposed to stop that?”  
“It's recent,” Katrine said, looking away. “He wouldn't have known.”  
Katrine's gaze was drawn back to the window, as the Geilish countryside passed them by. They were now a ways outside of Thelios, and this was the furthest she'd ever been without magic. Much of northwestern Geil was mountainous; the sharp mountains receding into foothills before yielding to the grasslands and forests of eastern Geil. Katrine knew all of this, of course, but she had grown up in the shadow of the mountains, and she wanted nothing more than to stop the carriage, but she said nothing. She could smell the fires from the farmers in the area-the smoke carried a familiar smell.  
The baron noticed Katrine, eyes still glued to the window, and touched her back, gently.  
“Perhaps you could tell us a little about the countryside, Kat. I'm sure there's much Devlan, Ruby and I don't know.”  
“I can tell you what I know,” she said, shaking. “I've not been outside of Thelios much. I know it seems small, but there are many things to do, and I've been studying with Claire.”  
The baron motioned with his arm to the left of the carriage. There was a large expanse of forest that seemed to go on forever.  
“What can you tell me about this forest?” he asked.  
“I know it's the last great expanse of old growth forest left in Geil. We had a king, you know, Queen Valencia's brother Alhren- for whom the lake is named. Legend has it that his queen; Queen Sira was a great outdoorswoman. Her family lived in these woods. When she married, King Alhren decreed these wood sacred. Any tree taken from the woods was punishable by three days on the rack.”  
“How did those rules work for those inhabiting inside the forest?”  
“I'm not sure. We didn't study any of the ancient rules.”  
“Claire made sure our education was varied,” Devlan finally spoke up. He had not spoken the entire first day, and it was encroaching onto the even hours of the second day. There came a tap on the glass.  
“My lord,” Asthore called from the front, his broad accent gently carrying the vowels longer. It was Baron liSoa's favorite part of Geil. The northern accents were rare to hear in Shaa, and the way Katrine carried the vowels in his name was his most favorite.  
“My lord, we will not be able to take the ferry across Lake Alhren tonight, but there is an inn right on the lake that we can stay for the night.”  
“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “Thank you Asthore, we will do that.”

 

That night, while Katrine slept, Ruby contemplated her situation. She wished she could call on Solin, but she had no idea how she could reach him. Maybe there was some sort of mistake, she thought as another flagon of ale was placed in front of her.  
“I hope you don't mind,” Asthore said with a smile, slipping into a chair across from her. “You look worried, and there's nothing a little ale can't fix.”  
“I know you,” Ruby said. “You're one of the baron's men.”  
Asthore laughed a hearty laugh, his soft brown curls falling in his face as he righted himself again.  
“Hardly! Our uncle runs the inn in Thelios and enlisted us to help Baron liSoa.”  
He flexed one arm and chuckled.  
“He really is helpless. That wife of his has her hands full. She's still a child, and she has no idea what she's stepping into.”  
“The wife- Katrine. Can you tell me anything about her?” Ruby inquired.  
“There's not much I know. “Asthore began. “She's the daughter of a prominent shopkeeper. I've not bought any of his wares, but theirs has been a staple of Thelios for three generations. I wonder what a merchant's daughter has to offer a nobleman from Shaa.”  
Ruby wondered the same thing. Asthore pulled a deck of cards from his front shirt pocket.  
“Care for a game of cards?” he asked, pushing the hair out of his eyes. “Loser buys the winner drinks.”  
When Ruby crept out of the room Asthore and his brother shared, it was late into the night. Her head was pounding. Asthore was not very good at cards. She had already forgotten about contacting Solin.

The ferry trip across the lake was largely uneventful, the massive crowds, there only a few weeks ago, were gone, leaving the town of Delthos quiet.  
“Is there anything you can tell us about this region?” the baron asked, breaking the quiet. His hand was on Katrine's thigh, and both she and Devlan noticed. The boy yawned, suddenly finding the side window very interesting.   
“Not particularly,” she said quietly. She wanted desperately to remove his hand. She shifted her weight a bit and he removed it. “I never learned much about northern Geil.”  
“How did you meet?” Ruby asked. She didn't particularly care, but Asthore had put the thought in her head last night over cards. Katrine opened her mouth, but the baron was already speaking.  
“I've no doubt this will sound silly,” he started with a wild smile. Katrine closed her mouth and folded her hands. “But I walked into her father's store and there she was behind the counter. I knew then and there that I had to make her my wife. I spoke with her father before I left for the winter- Geilish winter are long and cruel. When I came back a month ago to check on my estate, and he was still willing to give her up, I began proper courtship. We are to married on her fifteenth birthday.”  
Ruby nodded and thought she noticed a faraway glance in the girl's eye.  
“My lord, Miss Iros, we will be approaching Mìla shortly,” Therius' voice came through the back window.  
“Would you like a tour of the city?”  
“I do believe neither Katrine nor Devlan has seen this grand city. If it would be no trouble, I think we would enjoy a tour of the city.”  
“Very well, my lord,” Therius slid the glass closed.  
“Several nobles from Shaa summon in Mìla. They are throwing winternut blossom viewing parties. You two are more than welcome to attend. Katrine, if you don't mind, I've requested the upper room at Mìla. It should be large enough to fit all three of us."  
“Thank you, my lord,” Katrine said quietly.

Katrine, Ruby and Devlan entered the top room of Mìla's best inn. Katrine couldn't believe her eyes-the sitting room was larger than the entire first floor of her house. Devlan ran to the bay doors and threw them open. Ruby yawned and threw herself on the divan. She kicked off her boots and balanced her feet on the corner of the table.  
“What is this?” Katrine's voice came threw from the other room.  
“What?” Devlan turned from the window, and Ruby padded across the room.  
At the foot of the large bed sat an ornate chest made of cherry and lined with cedar and red velvet. The ornate bronze handle was in the shape of a bear. It wasn't locked, and she opened the heavy top. Inside sat beaded gowns made of satin and silk. A piece of parchment sat on top.  
“These are all for me,” Katrine said with wonderment, reading off the parchment. “These are What I'm to wear to the baron's parties.”  
Devlan stormed off while Ruby took a gown from the chest.  
“These are fine make,” she said. “These gowns are hand-beaded from Shiara. This must have cost him a fortune.”  
Katrine sat on the edge of the bed, a dark green ball gown on her lap.  
“I don't know if I want this,” she said, quietly, resting her head in her hands.  
“Want me to get rid of him for you?” Ruby suggested with a smile. It was partly a joke, but Ruby would have been lying if she said she hadn't considered it.  
“What? No!” Katrine exclaimed. “But all this? The gilded carriage? The silk dresses? He's already spent a fortune on me and we're not even married yet!”  
Ruby pulled a heavy chair from the corner to where Katrine sat. She winced at the noise it made as it was pulled across the hardwood floor.  
“Do you love him?” Ruby asked.  
“I don't know,” Katrine replied. “I don't dislike him. My parents arranged it.”  
“I thought Geil had no use for arranged marriage.” Ruby's legs were spread wide apart, like a man and her elbows were resting on her knees.  
“I've heard rich people still do,” Katrine paused, green eyes darting back to the trunk. “Perhaps he's thinking he's helping my family. My brother left, and we were robbed recently. I know it doesn't seem like much, but sixty gaels is a lot up here.”  
“How does a nobleman from Shaa even decide to marry a country girl?” Ruby changed the subject and hoped it would never be mentioned again.  
“I guess it's fashionable to build summer homes here, and my father's shop was the first one he walked into. He made my father a ridiculous offer, and he took it.” Katrine paused again, eyes still focused on the door, hoping Devlan would walk through it. “I just don't like being used as a transaction.”  
“You could have said no.”  
“I'm still allowed to say no anytime before the wedding. This is just a lot to process-I've never been away from home before.”  
There came a knock at the door.  
“My dear, the party is in a half hour. I trust the gowns found you well.”  
“Yes my lord, thank you.”  
Sliding off the bed, Katrine looked over the ballgowns. Picking the first one on top, she laid it flat on the bed.  
“How do you know Solin?” she asked, pulling off her traveling gloves.  
“He just appeared to me one day.”  
Katrine searched around the room for shoes to match her dress. Baron liSoa wasn't one do half on anything. She threw open the wardrobe, to find shoes, stockings, and clean underthings to go with the dress.  
“That's...creepy,” she muttered as she reached for a slip.  
Katrine slid behind an accordion door where a chair had been set out.  
“You're picking him, then?” Devlan demanded, storming into the room, throwing the door open behind him.  
“Do we have to do this now?” she asked, stepping out of her skirt. “Can't this wait until the trip? We'll only be here a few days.”  
She threw her clothes over the accordion door and looked at herself in the mirror. She pulled the slip over her head, and then the gown, the fabric hanging strangely from her shoulders. She stepped into her shoes, a dark green. She stepped from behind the divider and his breath caught in his throat. She smiled and sat at the vanity.  
“You don't have to marry him, you know,” Ruby said as Katrine worked on piling her hair on top of her head, which she had heard was fashionable in Shaa.  
“Yes I do-we've got no money.”  
Devlan had to look away. When did his mouth grow dry? He didn't even know why he was upset anymore, but the growing feeling in his belly was giving him concern.  
“And I'm not picking anyone, Devlan. We can still be friends.”  
He sighed heavily.  
“Have you decided if you're coming to Termogran?” he asked. Katrine stabbed herself with a hairpin. She threw it down in exasperation.   
“Kirt take you! I haven't received my letter yet. I wonder if Claire wrote them and told them to cancel.”  
“But you said the baron would let you finish school.”  
“Claire doesn't know that,” she said. Ruby had grown bored of the whole thing and had fallen asleep on the large bed.  
“Would you like to come to the party with me?” she asked quietly. “It's going to be full of stodgy old rich people from Shaa who don't about me. I know you enjoy the winternut blossoms.”  
Devlan smiled a half smile.  
“This is the only thing I have.” He motioned to his slightly wrinkled clothes. “Do you think I'll be fine?”  
“Probably.” She sat back to admire her hair. “I've never done this before. It doesn't look too bad.”  
She smiled meekly at him when the knock came at the door.  
“I trust you're ready?” Baron liSoa threw the door open. He was wearing that silver lined coat again and she stiffened a giggle.   
“Ah, my love, you look radiant!” he crossed the room in wide strides and kissed her hand. She didn't hide her blush and Devlan hid his rage.   
“My lord, Devlan would like to come. He loves the winternut blossoms.”  
“He is welcome!” He motioned to Ruby, still asleep on the large bed. “What about your other friend?”  
“We're hardly friends. I don't trust her.”  
“Perhaps I could send one of my men up, to ensure she doesn't try anything?”  
“That would be wise.” She hated talking this stuffy and yearned for the day when she didn't have to. She hoped it was soon.  
He propped out one elbow and she took it. Devlan rolled his eyes and followed behind them.

 

Duke ziVal's party was in full swing when they arrived.  
“First will be appetizers,” the baron leaned in to whisper to his betrothed. “And sherry. Then the viewing party, with music, of course.”  
He pointed to the quintet in the corner.  
“Once outside, there will be more appetizers-something to match the weather, and then, once it grows dark, everyone will return indoors, where an impromptu supper will be set up on those tables over there.”  
He motioned to the long table, a spring centerpiece and several candelabras decorating the drab mahogany.  
“More wine, something to accentuate the meal,” he continued. Katrine was taking in her surroundings. And she honestly couldn't remember where Devlan went. “Then dancing until we leave.”  
“I suppose I'm to get used to this sort of thing,” she said, her voice devoid of emotion.  
“Yup,” he said with a smile. “This is why we'll be together for a year before we're married-in addition to customs, of course. I can’t imagine you've been to many parties.”  
Katrine was about to tell him there were festivals she had been to when a middle aged man and his young wife stopped them both.  
“Baron liSoa!” The man's voice boomed so loudly several other party-goers turned to look at him. The man was tall and balding, with thick muttonchops. His heavy coat carried several medals, showing all party-goers he was a decorated general.  
“Lord Alastar!” the baron exclaimed. “How have you been?”  
“I got married again.” He touched his dark-haired wife's arm. “You know what they say about those women from Avri Đo!”  
“What do they say?” Katrine was asking. The baron laughed over her heartily. He extended his free hand to the dark-haired beauty.  
“Tien Zimpter, my lady. First baron of Soa.” He brought her hand to his lips.  
“Lady Adelheid, my lord. Very pleased to meet you.”  
Lord Alastar spoke up again, nearly interrupting his wife.  
“Baron liSoa, you simply must introduce me to this beautiful girl on your arm.”  
Lord Alastar accepted the glass of sherry he was presented with.   
“Of course, how rude of me. Lord and Lady Garwen, let me introduce you to my betrothed, Katrine deMiil Iros.”  
“DeMiil?” Lord Alastar asked.” I've not heard that name in many years. From where do you hail?”  
“Thelios, my lord,” Katrine said with a quick bow.  
“I'm afraid I am unfamiliar with that barony. I trust you'll forgive me.”  
“It's a small town in the mountains. Most people haven't heard of it.”  
Suddenly, Lord Garwen's eyes grew wide and he laughed heartily.  
“Geilish women are the most beautiful.” He inflected 'are' strangely, and Katrine strained to hear the rest. “And the most peculiar. In all my life, I don't think I've ever been able to tame their charms.”  
He sipped his sherry before speaking again.  
“How do you understand each other?” he asked, smiling smugly.  
“Miss deMiil can speak four languages fluently,” the baron began before she could even speak. “Kingstongue is, as you know, just a modern dialect of Geilish.”  
He smiled, proud of himself. Lord Garwen reached for her gloved hand and delicately kissed it. He smelled of old cigars and it was then that she decided that she hated him.  
No sooner had she mumbled a reply then was she whisked away to the next set of nobles.  
“My love, this is Duke and Duchess Ilfray of the Duchy of Shi'il. The duke is the queen's brother.”  
Baron Ilfray was a short balding man in his late forties with a sharp nose. His black hair was greying, but he would probably lose most of it before it greyed completely His grey eyes looked tired. His pretty wife, an Al'Shaïban princess was ten years his junior. Gold and jewels were woven into her long dark hair. It was still too cold in Mìla for her traditional dress, but she insisted on wearing it anyway.  
“Baron liSoa! And this is your wife?”  
“We have not married yet, my lord. I will be announcing our engagement once we arrive back in Soa.”  
“Her majesty will be pleased. If you will, regale us in the tale of your meeting.”  
“I'm building a summer estate in northern Geil, you see. Far up in the mountains. I do love the mountains. I stopped in to the closest town to my estate, and there she was in her father's shop, working behind the counter.”  
Duke Ilfray laughed, a haughty, highborn laugh.  
“It is traditional, and not a bad tradition at that. It keeps some fire in the blood, those common ones.” He took his wife's arm. “Come love, we shan't keep him any longer.”  
The look Katrine gave Duke Ilfray as he left could have incinerated him, if she was better at conjuring.  
A server came by with a tray of champagne. Baron liSoa motioned to Katrine.  
“The viewing will begin soon,” he said. She tried to hold her champagne in the hand that was linked with his.  
“I hope you don't mind expensive cheeses.” he whispered, lips hot on her ear.  
The crowd began moving to the balcony. Other servers, wearing black waistcoats weaved through the crowd, small trays lined with cheeses. A tray was placed in front of her and she reached for a pale yellow square. Suddenly, her mouth was engulfed in flame and it was hard not to cough.  
“Are you quite alright Kat?”  
Several nobles turned to look at the commotion as he ushered her back into the ballroom.  
“What's the matter?” he asked. She sipped her champagne. It wasn't helping.  
“This cheese.” She coughed again, hands at her knees, bent over, ragged coughs wracking her body.  
“What about the cheese?” He set the empty glass on a tray as a server passed by.  
“My mouth is on fire!” she exclaimed.  
“Al'Shaïban cheese isn't for you, then,” he chuckled. “Are you well enough to go on? You really must see the winternut trees in the afternoon sun.”  
He smiled meekly, all he could offer her after her coughing fit and she took his arm with a heavy sigh.

The winternut blossoms were quite lovely in the afternoon sun. Devlan had taken to the ground, weaving in between the trees. Katrine watched him as he darted back and forth.  
“Your father tells me your family has an orchard.” He spoke so suddenly, she jumped.  
“Yes we do,” she replied. “My family used to be farmers, and after my grandfather bought the shop from someone in town, we kept the orchards. They're still profitable. We have half winternut, which are native to Geil, as you know, and half apple. There is nothing quite like our orchards in the spring.”  
She thought of home as the wind shifted, wafting the scent of the pale pink blossoms over the crowd.  
“Could we plant a grove of winternuts at your estate?” Katrine asked suddenly. “I don't mean the summer home. I mean your estate, in Soa. I'd like to be able to look on something that reminds me of home.”  
“I will see what I can do. The soil seems to only allow a certain few trees, but I shall converse with the gardener once we return home.”  
He smiled, and she thought he sounded different. The champagne was strong and was clouding her head. She instead tried to find Devlan out in the trees. The viewing was a somber affair, some small talk, a little laughter, the quintet playing something familiar in the corner, and she decided she liked Geilish parties much better. When the sun finally dipped behind the trees, the quintet in the corner began a jaunty tune, pulling people back into the ballroom. Katrine turned to the baron, to say something, and noticed his hand was outstretched.  
“I'm sorry. I don't know any of these dances.” His hand was already at her waist and he pulled her a bit closer. He smelled of soap and shaving cream.  
“You have plenty of time to learn them,” he said, voice low. “For now, just follow my lead.”  
The party continued around them, but after trying to follow the baron's lead for the better part of an hour, Katrine excused herself and looked for Devlan. She found him the orchard, enchanting the tree branches with white glowing balls.  
“How's the party?” he asked, bitterly. He still couldn't look at her.  
“Awful.” She sank down onto a stone bench under one of the glowing trees.  
“You looked like you were having a great time.”  
Devlan sat near her on the bench, but was still behaving aloof.  
“Do you know when adults talk about you, but you're there so they can't say it outright?”  
“Our troupe was pretty close-knit, but I've heard outsiders say it. Usually in their native tongue, when they think I can't understand them.”  
Katrine sighed.  
“If I hear one more noble address me as quaint, I may light them on fire.”  
“What's your baron doing?” Devlan asked, standing and readying another spell.   
“I don't know. Probably eating Al'Shaïban cheeses and dancing with other women.”  
“Does that bother you?” Devlan asked.  
“Not really. He's terrible at dancing and all I know are barn dances. Let him step on someone else's delicate toes.”  
She laughed, a sound so foreign lately, and Devlan couldn't stop laughing.  
“The trees look lovely,” she said, after the laughing subsided.  
“I was hoping you'd notice,” Devlan said, voice no louder than a whisper. “I made them for you. I know winternut blossoms are your favorite.”  
Katrine smiled and squeezed his hand.  
“Thank you Devlan. I'm glad I got to see them.”  
Baron liSoa's laugh could be heard all the way into the orchard. It echoed through the trees.  
“I should get back,” she said. “I wouldn't want him to forget about me. You should come too. Maybe you can enchant the room.”  
She smiled and pulled her gloves back over her arms, to the elbow. When she eventually made her way back to the ballroom, the quintet in the corner was playing something familiar.  
“There you are!” Baron liSoa exclaimed, arms outstretched. He was smiling. “I've asked the quintet to play something you may find familiar. I trust you've been to your town's barn dances?”  
“A few. I mostly just watched, but I was beginning to learn one.”  
“Could you teach us one? It will be scandalous-you'll have to lead!”  
The song was a jaunty number that Katrine had danced once-with Mathias at the winter festival. The skirts were too long for this dance, she noticed as she took his hand. Her free hand bunched the skirt to her knees and she heard a woman behind her gasp. She stepped out on her right foot, pulling the baron forward. She didn't know the dance well, and she floundered the first few steps. All eyes were on her. She pulled back, letting his hand go. She skipped around him, hands behind her back, high-stepping on the down beat. It was difficult in the longer dress, but after she had circled around him, she whispered in his hear: “Your turn.” She clapped as he circled her and when he faced her, she dropped her skirts and grabbed both his hands. The tempo shifted, quicker now, and the viola bowed out.  
“More high-stepping,” she said, stepping forward and hopping with her right foot. He stepped backward, mimicking her movements. The nobles were enthralled. It had been a long time since the had seeing Geilish dance moves-not since Duke Alhren returned with his bride and these moments awed the masses. Several younger nobles joined in, trying to follow along.  
“This part will repeat one more time,” she said quietly. “When it's over, we face each other, touch our right toe to the floor and put our hands on our hips.”  
When the song finished, they were both panting and he drew her close.  
“That was great fun! Thank you Kat, for the dance.”  
The nobles clapped, a stiff upper class sort of applause. The violist, who had disappeared returned again, with more of the same fare. The party droned on until the dark hours, and Devlan grew bored of the winternut trees. He sat outside the large hall, just outside of the larger double doors, kicking his feet back and forth. Guests were trickling out, drunk and giggling. He rolled his eyes.  
“Nobles,” he said in Floresi.  
A messenger slipped in behind him. He was dressed in blue and green, the colors of the Queendom of Melena, the crest on his black coat bearing a double seal: Melena and Termogran.   
“Excuse me, boy. I am looking for a Miss Katrine Iros.”  
“I know Katrine,” Devlan said. “I can give it to her.”  
“I'm very sorry, but I am to make sure that she gets it.”  
“She's in there,” Devlan said, waving his hand toward the ballroom. “Blonde hair, green eyes. Dancing with a man she's too good for.”  
The messenger shook his head at the last comment and made his way through the double doors. There were many blonde women, he noticed. The jealous boy in the hall looked about thirteen. Perhaps they were the same age. When he finally found her, standing near the quintet as the man next to her chatted happily on.  
“Katrine Iros?” he asked. She turned.  
“Yes?”  
“Miss Iros, I come bearing a letter from Everwinter.”  
Her green eyes lit up as the messenger handed her a parchment envelope.  
“Thank you, sir.”  
The messenger bowed and turned on his heel. Katrine eyed the envelope. It was closed with dark green wax and sealed with the image of a griffon. She brought her finger along the edge and pulled at the seal. Her green eyes skimmed the handwriting, small and square, from years of writing runes.  
“I got in!” she exclaimed. Several old nobles shot her looks as they passed by. “I'm going to Termogran!”  
“Fantastic! We'll leave immediately!”


	9. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And with one last glimpse, Geil is gone to her forever.

Baron liSoa's flotilla of ships was impressive, Katrine noted as she stood on the big dock to the flagship.There were five ships in the flotilla, each of varying sizes, and the baron beamed when she saw them.  
“Does this please you, my dear?” Baron liSoa asked, coming up behind her. Asthore and Therius came behind him, her trunk hoisted to their shoulders.  
“Why do we need five ships? One seems like it would be fine.”  
“One is carrying the finest silks from the most exotic of lands. The other carries servants, all yours, the third, gold coins and jewels commissioned by Queen Ruthia herself, for the finest daughter of Geil. The fourth, foodstuffs, and the fifth will carry myself and your friends safely to Shaa.”  
Devlan stood behind Ruby, rolling his eyes and pretending to gag. Ruby giggled.  
“Good morning my lord!” the captain called from the flagship. He was dressed far better than his men, with a gold-lined burgundy coat and knee-high boots. His large-brimmed hat was pinned up on one side with a large bronze pin, several feathers gathered at it's base.  
“Good morning, Captain Rhys! Have we fine weather to sail?”  
“Aye,” the grey-haired man replied. “And greetings to the lady as well. My first mate will show you to your quarters.”  
Therius and Asthore returned from the dock, hefting the chest back onto their shoulders and carried it to the flagship.  
“Have we everything?” Captain Rhys asked.  
“I do believe this is the lady's first time on a ship. She would like some time to get comfortable.”  
“Many apologies, sir, but we are a bit of a tight schedule, if you expect to arrive back in Shaa before the queen's birthday,”   
“Captain. You may command this ship, but I command your schedule. The trip is three weeks. She is requesting five minutes.”  
Captain Rhys sighed.  
“Very well. Fordon! Please show the lady and her friends to their quarters.”  
“Aye captain,” a dark skinned man stepped from behind the helm. “Please follow me.”  
He motioned to the deck and Katrine walked up the plank slowly, Devlan behind her. Ruby was trying as hard as she could to not plow them over. Katrine stopped and stared, taking everything in. Men clambered about the deck, up ratlines, securing and mending sails, fixing rigging for the long trip ahead. The ship rocked gently in the water, and she peered over the edge.  
“We will very rarely need you up here, unless you've worked on a ship before. We'll need extra hands if the weather gets rough. “  
The iron grate leading below decks was thrown open, another man running onto the deck. Fordon motioned toward the darkness.  
“Mind your step.”  
Katrine hiked her skirt to her knees and leaned against the wall. The stairs were steep, and it was hard not to fall forward.  
“These are the crew's quarters,” Fordon announced, passing through the mess hall and turning a corner to the next flight of stairs. “Passenger cabins are on the third and fourth decks. You three will be on the third.”  
Fordon ran down the steps with agility Katrine had never seen.  
“Right down the hall here,” he said, stopping abruptly. “My lady, your suite is here, adjacent to my lord's here on the right. As for your friends, I hope they will find their quarters to their liking.”  
He motioned to his left.  
“The captain sends his apologies that they are not suites, but he only just received word of your joining several days ago. When you're ready, please join the captain and the baron above decks.”  
Katrine opened the door to her suite and then stopped. It was half the size of the room at the inn they had all just left. When she did finally muster the courage to walk in, she noticed the mahogany desk, bolted down, of course, and the spacious sitting room. The doors leading the baron's suite were ornately carved, with lead glass windows and a bronze knob. The doors to her room were the same and she pushed them open. An oversized bed, taking up at least half the cabin sat in the middle, ornate oaken headboard, carved with water nymphs and mermaids against the wall. The portholes were covered with sheer curtains and oil lamps stuck into the walls. A night pot sat in the corner by the washbasin, and it was then Katrine wondered how to get fresh water on a ship.  
There was a wardrobe and sitting next to it was her trunk. She sighed and hung the first two dresses in the wardrobe; the two dresses from home were plain in comparison to the silk gown she was wearing today, but they were her favorites: a pale blue one with three quarter sleeves with lace at the edges. Her father had paid a fortune for it when a traveling merchant had it on display. The other one was a soft green dress two years too old for her.  
“This is where you're staying?” a voice came from the sitting room. Ruby was sitting on a chair, feet propped on the corner of the table. “You should definitely marry him.”  
“Do we have to discuss this now?” Katrine asked, closing the delicate doors behind her a bit loudly that she should have.  
“You got that letter though, right?” Ruby asked. “And it's a three week trip to Valencia. It's not fair to string him along.”  
“Get out of my room.”  
Katrine crossed the sitting room and stood at the front door, motioning with one hand. Ruby sighed and padded out behind her.

“Ah! Katrine!” Tien exclaimed. “We were waiting for you. I didn’t want Captain Rhys to leave before you got to say goodbye to Geil.”  
The dinner party left a bad taste in her mouth, and now she didn't know if he was trying to be condescending or actually cared, so she just smiled.  
“How did you find your cabin? Accommodating, I hope.”  
“Captain Rhys has gone above and beyond what I'm sure was expected of him,” she said with a faraway voice.  
“I trust you will have no trouble settling in,” he said with a wide smile. “Captain, I do believe we are ready to go.”  
“Let's go men!” Captain Rhys called, his first mate echoing everything he said. “Raise anchor!”  
Twenty men lunged backward at the bow of the ship, pulling an oversized, thick rope. The ship shuddered as the anchor loosed itself from the sediment. Other sailors clambered high above them, high on yards cutting the ropes that held the canvas into place. Other men slid on ropes, checking for snags and after several minutes, the ship lurched forward, throwing Katrine into her intended's arms. Devlan was already back at the stern as the Charise began its slow parting from the shore.  
“Would you like to say goodbye?” the baron asked her tenderly.  
She smiled, and pulled away. She joined Devlan at the stern who was leaning against the rail.  
“Are you going to miss it?” she asked.  
“I think so, yeah,” he said quietly, eyes never leaving the shoreline. “I've lived here so long, I don't remember anywhere else.” He turned to her and smiled. “Anywhere you are is home to me.”  
She snaked her hand to meet his and entwining her fingers with his. The movement sent little shivers up his spine and he turned to face her.  
“I just want to say goodbye,” she said. “I don't know if I'll ever see home again.”  
Devlan shrank back, eyes on the cloud formations covering Mìla.  
“You've never been away from home before, have you?” he asked. A flock of seabirds took to the sky, taking advantage of the wind the Charise had found.  
She shook her head.  
“I know the baron has that summer home in Thelios, but it won't be the same. My family will be close by, but all I can think is how strange it will be.”  
“When Claire and I first moved up here, I hated it. It was cold and rainy, and so different from what I was used to. But I got to meet you, and learned your traditions, and saw how you loved it. Through you, I began to love it too, and I'm sad to see it go. But Termogran will be exciting!”  
“It will,” she said. “And I want you to go.”  
“Why can't you decide?” Devlan asked. “The choice should be easy- Termogran over some stuffy old noble.”  
“My parents have a lot of money riding on this deal...” Katrine started.  
“Your parents paid him to get rid of you!” Devlan argued.  
“Actually, he paid them...”she mumbled.  
Devlan opened his mouth and then closed it again. She let his hand drop, resting both on the rail. He smiled and turned back. They were almost far enough out that it was hard to make out any landmarks. Katrine wiped the tears from her eyes. Turning on her heel, she walked to where the baron and Captain Rhys stood.  
“My love, have you said your goodbyes?”  
She nodded.  
“Why don't you go below deck for a while?”  
“Can't I stay on deck for awhile?” she asked. “I've never seen the ocean before; let alone been on it. Besides, Ruby's over there.”  
She pointed to Ruby who had joined the other sailors hoisting full sails. She felt the wind pick up, catch in the sails, and reached for the railing.  
“Be they puttin' ye to work?” Ruby asked. The man she was near was seen climbing the ratlines, to check for any snags in the newly loosened sail.  
“Why are you speaking funny?” Katrine asked.  
“Captain Rhys runs a hard ship. Anyone seen lollygaggin'll be put ta work.”  
“That's not true,” another sailor next to Ruby spoke up. “Captain Rhys runs a fantastic ship- you volunteered.”  
She shushed him.  
Katrine turned from Ruby and stared out into the blue expanse. Geil was but a misty horizon in the distance, ships in the harbor barely visible in the afternoon haze.  
“Be ye well?” Ruby ask, as Katrine gulped down her sadness.  
“Would you quit talking like that!” she finally exclaimed.  
“Nary I won't, for this be how all the seamen on Shaa do speak. What ails ye?”  
“The rest of my life.” she said quietly.  
“Be ye wanting to talk about it?” Ruby asked.  
“I've already talked about it. It hasn't helped.”  
Ruby ushered Katrine below decks and they sat quietly in her suite.  
“This suite is pretty amazing,” Ruby said after a few minutes.  
“Why were you talking like that?” Katrine asked, sitting on the edge of her bed. She had already removed her shoes.  
“Trying to lighten the mood. You've been so glum today.”  
“I wouldn't have given it a thought if it wasn't for Devlan.”  
Ruby sat up straight in the hard backed chair by the vanity. A window came through the window, bring the sound of gulls and the scent of the sea.  
“Ooh, time for some juicy gossip?”  
Her elbows were resting on her knees, legs apart.  
“I've known Devlan since I was eight years old. He and I have the same magic teacher. It's a bit of a secret in Geil, but magic's coming back. I think I'm the only friend he's had.”  
The ginger frowned. She was expecting some kind of illicit affair. Then again she was only thirteen.  
“He only started acting strangely after Tien showed an interest. And now he's possessive and watchful of my every move.”  
“I think, my dear Kat, that he likes you,” Ruby said after a pause.  
“Likes me?” Katrine asked incredulously. “Why would you say that? Devlan and I have been friends or so long...”  
Ruby laughed, a loud hearty laugh befitting of her.  
“Oh Kat,” Ruby said, a tone of condescension in her voice. “Friendships are how romances get started!”  
Katrine wrinkled her nose up at the use of that nickname Mathias coined, and then blushed.  
“Why didn't he just tell me? I don't know what he's thinking!”  
“Maybe that's why he's upset,” Ruby responded with a shrug. “You're choosing one life over another, and he feels threatened. It's just been you for so long that he can't imagine another.”  
Katrine threw herself back on the bed. A vision of an alternate future flew through her head:  
she and Devlan entering Termogran. Lazy days studying under the large oak trees. Their first kiss in the spring. The destruction of Toa. The consolation that followed. The long night in an inn, waking up next to him in the morning. She giggled uncontrollably and hid her face. The look Ruby gave her made her stop.  
“What is so funny?” Ruby asked, noticing a blush creep up the girl's face.  
“I-I can't tell you,” she stammered. “I suppose Devlan wouldn't be a terrible choice.”  
“Are you going to tell me where you went a moment ago?”  
Katrine wished she understood the ginger's angle. She shows up mysteriously and forces herself on everyone she meets. Then there was the subject of all those knives she carried. She was dressed like a highwayman, based on what Katrine knew from Devlan's stories. She did have to admit Ruby was very personable, and it was hard not to talk to her. Even Devlan could be seen, happily chatting away with her and he hardly talked to strangers.  
“I don't know if I feel comfortable enough with you yet.”  
“Fair enough,” Ruby said. “I should probably go topside though. I told the captain I'd lend my services.”  
Katrine reluctantly dug out her cross-stitch, and Ruby turned at the door with a “yar”. Katrine giggle. Her cross-stitch was half-finished, but she was getting better. This one she would hang on the wall in her new home.

Three days into the trip Katrine refused to leave her cabin. Ruby was busy working her fare and Baron liSoa was locked up in his cabin, writing letters to send to the nobles upon arriving in Shaa. Devlan found him alone and stood outside Katrine's door.  
“Go away,” she called.  
He turned the knob. It was unlocked. She was sitting on the floor, in her undergarments. She was barefoot and was gripping the night pot tightly with her knees. Her hair was gathered to the top of her head with a gilded pin-a noticeable gift from the baron. It was hanging lopsided and blonde strands were beginning to fall loosely.  
“Katrine!” he exclaimed, running to her side.  
“I said go away,” she sniffled and gripped the pot tighter.  
The ship surged forward and she retched and vomited.  
“There!” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “Now you know where I've been.”  
“Have you eaten anything?”  
“What's the point?” she asked bitterly.  
She motioned to the bucket.  
“It might help calm your stomach. In my travels, we didn't deal with seasickness that often, but when we did, we always made sure to eat something.”  
“I think the hard tack may kill me,” Katrine said, one arm at the foot of the bed, the other holding the bucket. Without uncrossing her legs, she stood, placing all of her weight on her arm. She walked slowly to the open port hole and dumped the bucket. The ship lurched to one side and she gripped the wall. Her face disappeared inside the bucket, and when she pulled it away, she was crying.  
“I'm going to go get Ruby,” Devlan announced. She reached for him.  
“No,” she pleaded. “Stay here.”  
“I'm going to find something for you to eat and get Ruby.”  
He pulled away, and she crumpled to the floor, weeping. It seemed like an eternity, waiting for Ruby, but soon, a head full of crimson curls peeked through the open door.  
“I heard you have a bout of seasickness.”  
Katrine nodded meekly.  
“Your first time sailing?” she said it with a smile. Katrine wished she'd start on fire right then.  
“Don't worry, it happens to everyone. Well, mostly everyone. First of all, have you eaten anything?”  
Katrine shook her head.  
“I think Devlan mentioned finding me something.”  
Ruby nodded.  
“What we need is some ginger. Some ginger tea and you should be feeling better in now time.”  
The curly-haired woman smiled and turned on her heel.  
“No!” Katrine squeaked. “Please stay!”  
Devlan returned several minutes later, a plate full of food, and a pot of tea. He carried a small packet of ginger and set everything on the small table in the suite.  
“The cook sent me back.” he called. “He said ginger should fix you right up.”  
Ruby helped Katrine stand and ushered her into the sitting room. A flannel blanket was thrown over the divan and Ruby threw it over the girl's shoulders. The food wasn't very appealing- some grey looking meat and a boiled potato, but it was something. Ruby measured out the appropriate amount of ginger and mixed it with the plain black tea.  
“Why are you being so nice to me? You don't even know me.”  
“Solin strikes me as someone I wouldn't want to double-cross. He asked me to come along, and I told him I would. Now drink up.”  
The tea tasted awful, but Katrine drank it down. The meal, while disagreeable to look at, calmed her stomach, and Ruby set the packet of ginger aside.  
“Add this to the tea and that should be the last of those problems.”  
Katrine was ushered back into bed, bucket not too far away just in case. Devlan offered to stay away, and Ruby disappeared back above decks. Devlan smiled as he watched her sleep peacefully. Brushing aside the hair from her face, he kissed her cheek and was soon asleep at her side.  
Katrine slept for twelve straight hours when she awoke, the baron's hazel eyes were smiling back at her.  
“How are you feeling?” he asked. His had was on her forehead.  
“M-my lord?” she stammered, pulling herself upright.  
“We're beyond formalities- Tien will suffice.” He motioned to the small table by her bedside. “Tea's gone cold. I took the liberty to order more.”  
“What time is it?” she asked. “How long was I asleep for?”  
“Twelve hours. Devlan never left your side.”  
The Floresian was still asleep, face against the blanket, and an arm outstretched like he had been reaching for her in the night.  
“Devlan,” she whispered, shaking him lightly. “Devlan, wake up.”  
He grumbled, and raised his dark head. The knock on the door of the suite interrupted him, and he closed his mouth. He padded out to the sitting room and threw open the door. The cook stood with a tray of porridge and dark tea.  
“Mistress Iros requires breakfast?” he asked.  
Dumbstruck, Devlan motioned to the table and quietly snuck out behind the men. Baron liSoa stood and received the tray from the cook, who bowed slightly before exiting.  
“I know it's not what you're used to, but it's not bad.  
He dumped the rest of the ginger packet into the tea and offered her a steaming cup.  
“Once you're feeling well, you should make your way upstairs. The open ocean is really something to see. I'll send for Ruby.”  
“There's no need,” Katrine replied, making a face. “I can dress myself.”  
She laughed dryly and finished her breakfast. The baron left shortly after, with a chaste kiss to her forehead. She slid on the primrose dress with the ivory shoes. Her hair looked terrible and she decided to pin it up.  
Life on deck was different far into the trip than it had been when she'd left Geil. There was a strong westerly breeze and the deckhands were lounging about. Some were playing cards, and one was playing a jaunty tune on a fiddle. The breeze carried a warmth she hadn't felt this early in the season and she smiled. The ship rolled over one wave, and the sickness threatened to make it's presence known once again.  
“Katrine!” He was standing by the helm, talking to the captain. He waved when he saw her. “Glad to see you finally made it topside! And you look lovely in that dress.”  
His voice had a lowness that unnerved her and she gazed into the open expanse.  
“How far out are we?” she asked.  
“Just rounding the Hump of Melena,” Captain Rhys said, stepping down from the bridge. “We are expected to reach the monastery city of Di'Ovri within the week.After receiving supplies, it's off to Valencia, and you should be settling into your new home within the fortnight.”  
He turned to the bridge, and called his men to turn the sails.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valencia was beautiful by lamplight.
> 
> But she shouldn't be here, and she didn't belong here.

Captain Rhys was correct, several weeks later, the Charise and her four sister ships sailed into Valencia's misty harbor with little fanfare. It was raining, a cool mist, and the humidity seemed to creep out of everything.  
“Your new home, my lady!” Captain Rhys exclaimed with a hint of sarcasm.  
“Is Shaa really so wet?” Katrine asked.   
The captain gave a hearty laugh.  
“When it's not so humid. Alanaria is a country of absolutes. The winters are freezing and the summers are sweltering. You should have married a sailor, someone who can take you away from all this.”  
“Stop filling her head with nonsense.” Baron liSoa was by her side. “How do you find Valencia, my love?”   
“It smells of dirt...and fish,” she said, crinkling her nose.   
Captain Rhys laughed heartily.  
“That's Valencia for you! Beware the rains, they say! I promise Carra Vieria is nothing like this!”  
“Would the lady and her friends like an escort?” a blue-eyed boy of fifteen asked from the dock.  
“Certainly!” the baron called down. “It's far too wet for a lady to walk.”  
He hooked his arm and escorted her down the plank. The boy was carrying a sort of foot cart, and she felt a little bad for him.  
“Can you pull us all?” she asked.  
“Of course, my good lady!” the boy said, in an accent she had never heard before. “The three of you should be no trouble.”  
He smiled a toothy grin.  
“And you, my lord?”  
“I'll be along shortly,” Baron liSoa responded. “Show these three all the sights this marvelous city has to offer, and, when the tour is over, bring them to the red brick building on High Street. Here are three sovereigns for your trouble.”  
He slid the coins into the boy's open hand.  
“The manor overlooking the water?” he asked.  
“The very one!” liSoa turned to Katrine and kissed her cheek. “Have a great time! Valencia is a marvelous city! Your things will be sent along to your suite.”  
Devlan scoffed behind her.  
“I suppose we get a closet,” he muttered.  
“Nonsense. You'll have to share with Ruby, but you'll both have a suite. Go; lest I keep you longer!”  
The boy started off at a moderate pace, and the baron was lost in the crowd. In spite of the rain, Valencia was a beautiful city. Situated on the Great Bay, Valencia was the most important port city in northern Shaa. Nestled between and Issha and the Swamp Forest, Valencia was built on a slight incline, her roads a red clay with deep grooves from the spring rains.  
“Valencia is so named because of Shaa's greatest queen.” the boy began in his best tour guide voice. “Do any of you know Shaa's history?”  
“Enough to know why the island I was born is an island.”  
“I thought you sounded Geilish,” the boy chuckled. “History is written by the victors, as they say, and Queen Valencia was a wonderful queen.”  
Katrine rolled her eyes, and opted instead to be a silent tourist. At the end of the quay, the road turned sharply to the right, and the carted turned onto one wheel.  
“Valencia, and most of northern Shaa prides itself on it's natural red clay, beneficial to a particular kind of pottery only found in this region. What about you, green eyes?” he asked, craning his neck back to try to look at Katrine. He smiled.  
“Where in Geil are you from? What brings you to Alanaria?”  
“I live in the northern mountains, and I’m here because I'm getting married.”  
“To that stodgy old baron, hmmm?” What do you say I take you out to see the sights? You're not married yet, and I get off at six.”  
“That's it!” Devlan yelled. “Stop the cart!”  
The cart lumbered to a stop and Devlan pushed his way out into the street.  
“Just go on without me. I'll meet you back at the manor.”  
“You haven't told him yet, have you?” Ruby asked.  
“There hasn't been time,” Katrine replied. “I was planning on telling him once we got to Alanaria.”  
After a few moments, the boy picked up the cart, and it began gently rolling down the road.   
“Where are you taking us?” Katrine asked. Ruby had slid over, closer to the middle, making the most of the extra space.  
“Oh, the usual spots,” he said. “Name's Aldis. Baron liSoa paid me for a full hour, but we can go longer if you like.”  
Aldis took the girls past all the important spots: the foothills, the Ancient Road of Tir, forever etched into the clay by iron and brick, the clay pits. Aldis claimed it had had the best prices on local pottery, and he was probably right, but neither Katrine nor Ruby had any interest in pottery. When Aldis finally dropped them off at the baron’s city manor, he was smiling.  
“Six then? For a night on the town?”  
Katrine blushed, and then looked away.  
“Six is fine.”  
Baron liSoa's Valencian Manor was immaculate. Deep maroon walls met gilded moldings and white plastered ceilings in symmetrical designs gave way to marble floors and expensive Shiaran rugs. A fountain made of plaster and adorned with cherubs stood in the entrance. The crystal chandelier above the alabaster caused the rays of light to dance across the water, on the walls and on the ceiling.  
“Good afternoon, miss.” A middle-aged man greeted Katrine with a deep bow. “How may I assist you?”  
“I'm looking for my room.”  
“And is my lord is expecting you?” the man asked again.  
“I'm his future wife.” She gasped and instantly clapped her hand over her mouth.  
The man smiled.  
“Right this way.”  
The man, who Katrine now realized was probably a butler, handed her off to a woman in her mid twenties.  
“Greetings, my lady. I hope you find this manor to your liking. The master has expressed that you are to be treated no differently than he, and has given you nothing but the finest apartment.”  
They turned down a hallway, all blue and gold, dark hardwood covered by expensive Shiaran rugs.  
“This is the ladies wing,” the maid continued. “This is where your attendants and yourself will stay, once you've married.”  
“Will I need a lot of attendants?” Katrine asked. The hall seemed endless.  
“Oh, I would imagine so. The life of a baroness is quite busy, and you'll need the help.”  
“Why are the women in a separate wing?” Katrine asked in a moment of childlike wonder.  
“I don't rightly know.” They had stopped outside a large oaken door. “But I would imagine noble men do not wish to be bothered by the troubles of women. Here we are.”  
She turned the brass knob and it opened a crack. Apprehensively, Katrine pushed it open. The maid curtseyed behind her and turned on her heel. The baroness' suite was painted in cream. The moldings were gilded with gold and painted reliefs depicting the romance of the gods covered the walls. The floor of the parlor was marble and crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The couch in the corner was burgundy and made of mahogany. The oil lamp on the rounded corner table depicted another scene out of legend. The desk by the window was mahogany and the table in the middle of the room was rosewood. The door to the bedchamber was open and she could see a large four-poster bed in the middle of the room. This room was also painted in cream, but without the reliefs. The window was open and the lace curtains fluttered about. On each corner was a wardrobe. Curiosity overtook the young woman and she looked inside them. One was empty; both trunks sat next to it. The other contained dresses made of fabric she had never seen before, shoes and hair pieces with sapphires and opals in golden settings.  
She had just pulled one dress out of the wardrobe, holding it up, admiring herself in the full-length mirror when there came a knock on her chamber door. Baron liSoa walked briskly into Katrine's chambers. She yelped and threw the silk night dress onto the bed.  
“How do you find your quarters?” he asked, sitting on the intricately carved chair by the vanity. “I trust it's to your liking.”  
“It's unlike anything I've seen!” she exclaimed. “But why am I in a completely different wing?”  
“That's just how city life is. It's easier to entertain with an entire wing.”  
“Is it? The maid told me it was for attendants.”  
“And also other noblewomen. You'll make friends, Katrine. Slowly, no doubt, but you will have friends in Valencia.”  
He paused briefly, to stand and he crossed to the open wardrobe. He closed it and spoke again.  
“Would you like a tour of the manor? I'd be honored to show you around.”  
“Are you sure you're not too busy?” she asked, turning from the mirror. He was bowing.  
“You don't have to keep bowing,” she scolded.   
She felt her cheeks flush and wonder why she was embarrassed. She wondered if Ruby had come in, so she stuck her head in the doorway. The parlor was empty. She shrugged and joined her arm in his. Together they walked down the hall of the women's wing. Every so often, he'd stop and let her examine an empty room.  
“You may pick your attendants,” he said when they approached the salon. “This room is for ladies galas. I'm told they're very important, although, I’m not sure what goes on with them.”  
At the end of the hall was a stairway, painted white and pastel blue.  
“What's up there?” she asked.  
“The children's wing. Would you like to see it?”  
A vision flew through her head: one of she and a man she didn't know. A tiny blond baby was placed in her arms, and she found it hard to stay focused. The baron noticed her flushed cheeks, and gently motioned for her to turn.  
“Perhaps we'll save this for another day.”  
His wing was a bit different than the woman's wing, she noted. Deep green walls, and brown paneling everywhere. In place of paintings hung antlers and animal heads stuck in the same frightful stare as when they died. She shivered.  
“Do they bother you?” he asked, pulling her close. She wished she could pull away. “I can have the staff remove them. The last baron was an avid outdoorsman. I'm afraid. I don't have the same gusto for hunting as he did. I'm a navy man, myself.”  
He chuckled as they passed various rooms Katrine was unsure the purpose of.  
“I think they build character!” he continued. “Something I can brag about when the meetings grow dull.”  
“What are these rooms for?” she asked when they reached the end of the hall.  
“Meeting rooms, private dining room, a room for brandy and pipes. I haven't gotten much use out of those rooms yet.”  
“How much more is there?”   
Her head was spinning. This place was just so large; how could she ever learn it?  
“Are you tired? Shall we rest?” he motioned to a bench, inconspicuous next to the head of a giant elk. “I'd like to take you out for the evening. Valencia is beautiful by lamplight and I'm sure you'll love it.”  
“Thank you, my lord.” she said quietly.  
“Tien. If we are to be married, you should no doubt use my name, no matter how awful it may be.”  
“It's not too awful,” she said behind a giggle.  
“Tis very kind of you to say, but I must be off. I've several things to do before tonight. Feel free to wander the grounds at your leisure-it's you manor too.”  
He took her hands and brought his lips to it. Shivers ran up her spine.  
“Until tonight.”

 

Katrine eventually found her way outside. The courtyard would have been impressive if it wasn't early spring. The garden was mostly barren, and the trees had dropped their flowers, tiny leaves peeking out their pods. Devlan could be seen in the middle by the fountain, nose in a book. She ran to him, smiling and sat down next to him.  
“Whatcha reading?”   
She put her head on his shoulder to get a better look.  
“I found it in the baron's library.” He shrugged his shoulders and slid away from her. “For all his faults, he's got a great library.”  
“I'd like to see it,” she said, sliding back towards him.  
“I'm sure you'll get to see it soon enough,” he said, slamming the book closed. He stood and turned to face her. “I'm leaving tonight.”  
“Devlan, why?”  
“If you have to ask, you already have your answer. I'll go to Termogran alone. If you ever make up your mind, maybe I'll see you there.”  
“Devlan, wait!”  
She reached for his shoulder, but he was already out of reach.  
“Goodbye, Katrine. I hope you made the right choice.”  
His voice wavered and it was all he could do to keep from crying. He set the book on the concrete garden table and slammed the bay doors behind without saying another word. She sat in the silence for several moments, as she tried to register what just happened. She pulled off her shoe, screamed and threw it somewhere in the garden. She sighed when she realized she'd have to retrieve it. She found it, crumpled to her knees and sobbed.

A short time later, as Katrine was wandering the grounds, a short, rotund maid came running to her, red-faced and panting.  
“My lady, my lady. It is half past three and you are still not ready for supper!”  
“I thought supper was at six?”   
“It is,” the maid replied, still panting. “And we've still so much to do. Come, come.”  
Katrine protested as she was pushed through the door. The maid didn't seem to notice.

She was ushered down the hall of her wing to the sound of rushing water. A faint floral scent, roses and lilies wafted down the hall.  
“Come now, in this room.”  
The maid motioned for Katrine to turn into a room with pale ceramic tiles on the floor. The walls were painted pastel blue and the molding appeared to drip down from the ceiling. A gold-clawed tub made of white porcelain sat in the center, steam wafting into the air. A young woman sat near the bronze faucet, monitoring the flow. A white vanity, also clawed sat nearby, it's mirror clear and elegantly designed.  
“Come now,” the first maid said, pulling at Katrine's hair pins. “Let’s get the smell of the road off you.”  
Katrine sat in the large bathtub, water up to her shoulders as the maids scrubbed and combed. The entire room was a marvel, indoor plumbing, expensive tiles and strange-smelling soaps. Every time she'd reach up to clean her hair, the short maid would slap her hand away. When she finally stepped out of the tub, smelling distinctly of roses, she was covered in a heavy towel. The women patted her dry and slid silk robe around her. Her slippers were warm and made of the same material the towel was. She was sat on the stool by the vanity, and her hair was patted dry. A delicate comb pulled through her hair.  
“Would you prefer to wait here or in your suite while your hair dries?” the pretty maid smiled.  
“In my suite,” she said, studying her reflection.  
“We'll fetch your tea,” the young maid said, curtseying lightly. Their voices could be heard chattering away down the hall.  
Her reflection had changed a bit since she last studied herself with her mother's mirror. Her hair had grown longer and straighter in those months. Her eyes had grown greener and the freckles she had collected during childhood were beginning to fade. Her breasts had begun to bud, the robe seemed happy to tell her. She pulled it open to study them. They were nothing more than small mounds when she had begun working in the store. They still pointed straight outwards, and she placed her hand on one. Suddenly embarrassed, she looked behind her. No one was there. She was surprised at its warmth. She could feel her heartbeat, and she just begun to squeeze a bit harder when there was a knock on the open door.  
“My lady?”  
She jumped and pulled her robe closed.  
“Have you changed your mind?”   
“N-no,” Katrine said quietly. “I'm coming.”  
Hands still on the lapels of her robe and head down, she walked as fast as she could into the open door of hr suite across the hall.  
She sat in silence on the stool in the suite, quietly sipping tea as the maids, who introduced themselves as Mara and Quillan, and several other personal servants combed her hair into sections, laying some parts flat. Once it was dry enough, they began fastening it to the top of her head. The pins were gold and some type of gem Katrine didn't recognize. When they were half-done, they instructed her to stand. She slid out of her robe, and Quillan was quick to grab it. Mara slid a shift over her head, and ushered Katrine back to the bench. The women slid on silk stocking, fastening them mid-thigh with a ribbon. Her shoes were blue and she was told they would match her dress beautifully. Her hair was completed, a mass of diamonds and pins. When she stood again, she was instructed to raise her arms. They slid the first petticoat over her head, tightening it around her waist with a drawstring. The stays came next and she grabbed the bed for support.  
They talked back and forth in their native tongue, and Katrine could make out bits and pieces.  
“I do hope my lord hasn't made a mistake,” Quillan said, pulling the laces forcefully.  
“You know they let the women run wild up there,” Mara said, tying the laces at the waist.   
Suddenly, the breath was taken out of her lungs, and she gasped for air.  
“We'll have to tight-lace her for several days at least,” Quillan said, tying the lower laces as tightly as she could. “It wouldn't do for a baroness to have such a loose figure.”  
Katrine was once again instructed to raise her arms. She found it more difficult this time. The next petticoat was thrown over her head. Mara was tying it as Quillan threw the final petticoat over her head, dark blue satin with silver beads at her feet. The rest of the gown felt foreign as her two attendants slid it over her shoulders. It was also dark blue, with a scooping neckline and a beaded stomacher. The sight of herself in the mirror took her breath away.  
“You'll make a fine baroness with a bit of work,” Mara said with a smile. “Shall we escort you to dinner?”   
Before she could even speak, she was whisked down the hall. She found walking suddenly difficult and she had to stop several times before the stairwell. She caught a glimpse of herself in one of the hall mirrors and froze. The dress was noticeably too big-pinned back in many places, and her hair was done in a style that made her look several years older.  
The older attendant prodded her.  
“We mustn't make him wait.”  
Katrine shrugged her off and began the labored walk down the stairs. After what seemed like an eternity, she reached the bottom. Out of breath, she clung to the railing. Her heart was racing, and she thought she'd never be able to move again. She breathed in as deeply as she could, which, granted, wasn't much, and took a small step forward. After what seemed like ages, she approached the main dining room. Baron liSoa was standing and smiling.  
“Katrine! You look lovely!”  
He embraced her and kissed both cheeks while her attendants, pleased with themselves, bowed out.  
“I'm sorry,” she said, sitting down slowly. “I'm laced so tightly that I can't move.”  
“I'm sure you'll grow used to it,” he was still standing. He poured her a small glass of wine and then sat back in the elegantly-designed oak chair.  
“No, I mean I can't breathe,” she tried again, but the kitchen staff had entered with the starters: a cheese plate, featuring exotic cheeses from Shiara, bread and a strange looking meat spread.  
“I know, it looks like something you'd see at a party, but, it's spring in Alanaria and this is the traditional starters. Monks of Shain have toiled a full year to make these cheeses.”  
“But cheese takes longer than a year to make,” Katrine spoke up, trying the stinkiest cheese on the plate. It had a smokey flavor and reminded her of home.  
“The process to produce this cheese takes a full year. The aging process, of course, takes much longer.”  
He smiled and took a smaller, flat dull knife and spread the meat spread onto his bread.  
“The paste is made from venison liver. It is considered a delicacy here in the north.”  
She could hardly ask why it was considered a delicacy when the soup was brought out, a clear flavored broth-to cleanse the palette and warm oneself on a cool spring evening. There was no spoon.  
“You're supposed to drink it,” Tien instructed, lifting the porcelain bowl to his lips.  
She drank it carefully, the words of her attendants echoing in her head. She set the bowl down and sat in silence until Tien had finished his. She didn't speak again until the meat course, twenty or so minutes later. Tien, of course, was happy to prattle on about the culture.  
She finally spoke over ham-wrapped beef: She didn’t know how noble women ate with this much weight constricting on their abdomen, and she decided that they simply didn't.  
“The staff doesn't like me.”  
“Of course they like you,” Tien said, swallowing the last of his wine. He offered her more, but she had hardly drank any.  
“No. They don't.” she said, much more forcefully. “They think I couldn't understand them, but I've been studying this language since I was ten, and I've grown quite good at it. They think you've made a mistake since we 'run wild'.”  
The chewing ceased and Tien's brown eyes looked off to one side. He carefully set his silverware onto the china plates. He dabbed carefully at the side of his mouth with a cloth napkin and set it down to his left.  
“I will talk to them. I do not want any staff that misjudges my decisions. Thank you for alerting me to this.”  
He was so calm about the whole thing that it frightened her. She didn't understand the decorum required of nobles when in public. She glanced behind him to see his head butler and several of the kitchen staff standing near the front doors then she understood. The rest of the meal was spent with small talk to fill up the emptiness. She hated it. Soon, the dessert course was presented, and she breathed a sigh of relief. It was a type of vanilla flan with caramelized sugar and whipped cream on top. There was a cherry, no doubt imported from the south, and the tartness rubbed at her tongue. It was surprisingly good.  
They left the estate a short time later, and Katrine found it difficult to breathe once again. Confusing her short breaths for panicked gasps, Tien linked his arm with hers. The boy from earlier stood at the wrought-iron gate, a look of hurt surprise on his face.  
“I'm sorry,” she said as the passed. “I'm so sorry.”  
“Who was that, love?” Tien asked, the boy’s gaze still following them down the lane.  
“The boy working the foot cab you paid for. Ruby set us up on a date to see the sights. I don't know why she couldn't just go with him.”  
“What can you tell me about Ruby?” he asked.   
Katrine stopped to lean against a tree. Her chest was heaving and he looked away.  
“I know as much as much as you do-probably less. I met her outside Thelios, same as you.”  
Tien remembered that thief he encountered in Thelios. He decided to keep quiet. Katrine had gathered her bearings, and they proceeded down the cobbled walkway. She had to stop again at the end of the lane, and Tien wondered what happened to the girl's energy. Perhaps his home in the country would do her good. The dress added to her maturity though, the gentle mounds of her developing breasts accentuated the scooping neckline nicely, and it was a shame she was only thirteen. The law of the land, amongst nobles that girls reached full maturity at fifteen, and could not be married until then. He knew of occurrence where an engagement was consummated earlier- you can't expect a man to wait forever. Katrine would need at least a year to learn how to be a baroness, and Tien supposed he could wait until then.  
Valencia was a beautiful sight by twilight. The city sloped slightly downward, yielding gently to the sea. The waves crashed loudly against the shore, and Katrine found it strangely calming. The lamplighters were out, balancing precariously on stilts, a small wick dipped in oil out in front of them.  
“Valencia takes great pride in its lit streets,” Tien began, stepping onto the cobblestone. “Many cities boast about their lamps, but we are the only one that keeps the lamps burning all night long with oil.”  
“We had oil lamps in our store,” Katrine began. The pinching got worse. “We never fully turned them off.”  
“Lamp oil was the last great thing the dwarves gave us before they retreated to the great stone city of Dûn Goth. If Geil has it, I trust this oil is all over the world!”  
“Why do you do that?” she asked quietly. Two men on the other side of the street nodded a hello.  
“Do what, my love?” he asked. He noticed the men's gesture and pulled Katrine closer.  
“Talk about Geil like that. It's my home, and I know it's not as glamorous or gilded as yours, but it's the only home I've ever known and – oh Ba'Lethi! Alorai save me!”  
She fell to her knees and gasped for air in ragged breaths. Her chest was heaving. Tien knelt down next to her, one arm at small of her back, the other one against her front.  
“Katrine! Are you alright?”  
“I...can't breathe! I'm tied so tightly in this thing!”  
She trailed off and coughed, convulsing violently.  
“Perhaps we should return to the manor?”  
“I'm sorry, Tien. I know you wanted to show me Valencia.”  
“It's quite alright.”   
He pulled up from underneath her armpits. She brushed herself off and Tien stared appreciated at her waist. He placed his hands on her tiny waist. He could feel the tightness.  
“We'll be in Valencia again. I can show you around at that time. I'm sure this is all so new for you.”

Katrine tried to find her way back to her room. The woman's wing was expansive, and the oil lamps stuck into the gilded walls were dimly lit. The two-person divans were set against the wall in strategic spot, and Katrine suddenly realized why they were there. When she finally reached the apartments, her chest was heaving, and her breath came in ragged gasps.  
Mara, the dark-haired young attendant was sleeping on an overstuffed chair. Katrine beat on the table to wake her.  
“My lady!” she exclaimed.  
“Cut me out!” Katrine demanded.  
“My lady, you are too thick! Your lack of a figure will scandalize the high society!”  
“I don't care,” she was already pulling the pins out of her stomacher. “Cut me out! Now.”  
The vocal exertion was too much and she fell forward onto the rosewood table, coughing violently.  
Mara pulled the the satin petticoat over the girl's head. Her hands wavered on the stays' laces, the old baroness' voice echoing in her head.  
“Lace me tighter!” she'd demand, in her shrill falsetto. “I want to be the most feminine one at the party!”  
“Loosen the stays, or I'll cut myself out!” Katrine demanded.  
Mara nodded and slid her fingers under the laces.

After sending her servants away, Katrine sat in her suite, in Pavlos' old breeches which were nearly too small. Her hair was hanging in two separate braids down her back. She was barefoot and laid flat on her back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. A loud rapping on the front door roused her from her daydreaming. Ruby invited herself in and plopped herself down in the high backed chair.  
“I'm bored,” she announced.  
“So go find that foot-cab driver you made a date with,” Katrine told her.   
“I don't date boys younger than me.”  
“Why are you here?” Katrine sighed, eyes still fixed on the ceiling.   
“I thought you'd be glad to see me after what happened in town.”  
“I don't want to talk about it.”  
“Everyone else sure does,” Ruby laughed. “Come on, why don't we leave these servants to their gossip? Get ready, and you and I will go out for a night on the town. Girls only!”  
She smiled and Katrine sat up, bare feet hanging off the bed. Ruby sat in the parlour as Katrine dressed herself. A short time later, she emerged, wearing a forest green dress with long square sleeves that flared at the wrist. The hems were lined in gold. Her braids were pinned to the top of her head and she wore no hat.  
“Did liSoa buy that for you?” Ruby smirked.  
Katrine made a face.  
“No. My da did. I was supposed to wear it to the spring festival..”  
“Are you disappointed?” Ruby asked, opening the door.  
“A little.” The door closed behind them. “It's a rite of passage for Geilish girls. We have two festivals, one in the winter to honor the death of Alorai, and one in the spring to welcome her renewal. All of the eligible, single girls wear their best dress and 'dance out'. Many girls are promised by age thirteen. The ones that aren't are shown off to the eligible village boys. Sometimes boys from nearby villages come to look for girls. As of the winter festival I was promised to no one. This dress was a festival gift.”  
There was sadness in her voice that wasn't there before. Maybe she was homesick.  
“What about Devlan?” Ruby asked. They had approached the marble stairway that connect both wings to the lower level.  
“What about him?” Katrine answered with a question. “He's not here. He left for Termogran, leaving me with a man I don't love. Some friend he is.”  
“If you don't love, him don't marry him,” Ruby said frankly. “Simple as that.”  
Katrine was quiet. The double doors opened to Valencia at night. Tien was right, the view was wonderful. The streetlamps bathed the cobblestone streets with a golden glow, and the stars were reflecting off the ocean. Ruby was standing funny and for a minute, Katrine thought she was going to give her a tour.  
“I don't know what liSoa told you about Valencia, but I'm going to assume that it was about Valencia's noble traditions of shitting on the little guy.”  
Ruby spat and grabbed Katrine's hand.  
“I'm going to show you the heart and soul of Valencia.”  
Instead of turning left out of the tree lined path at the foot of the big hill, the girls took a right. Slowly the street lamps disappeared from the streets, cobblestone giving way to unpaved, muddy streets that smelled strongly of sewage. Katrine crinkled her nose and pulled up her skirts.  
“There is a sidewalk,” Ruby said, pulling her over to a raised boardwalk. The houses were on stilts, raised out of the swampy muck of the road. The people shuffled on, the finery of upper-class Valencia gone. A beggar grabbed her arm.  
“Spare a silver, pretty girl?”  
Katrine tried to pull away. Ruby grabbed his arm.  
“The Blackwater Syndicate says hello,” she said, voice almost lower than a whisper.  
The man crawled back onto his heels.  
“Forgive me, miss,” he said, releasing Katrine's arm.  
“What was that about?”   
“We were colleagues once. That's all you need to know.”  
She motioned all around her.  
“Valencia is a tidal swamp,” she began. “No,I 'm not going to tell you it's glorious history and how its people invented lights, but I am going to tell you right here, in this mud and swamp is where true Valencia resides.”  
The girls past a dark alley. A scantily-clad girl, not much older than Katrine pulled a man three times her age into the alley. She shuddered. She had always heard of the women who sold themselves in port towns, but that was always so far away. Slowly, the mud-filled street began to dry, the gentle rolling hills returning. Houses grew more sparse, and the stilts were gone. The people grew more pleasant, and the colors more vibrant.  
“Where are we going?” Katrine finally asked.  
“Wherever,” the thief replied. “I wanted to see all of Valencia and I thought you might want to come with.”  
She smiled, a dimple showing in one cheek.  
“You told me you wanted me to see the 'true Valencia'.”  
“And you have. Or did you prefer your gilded cage?”  
Katrine sat on a stump that had been whittled into a shape of a phoenix.  
“My world just hasn't been making much sense lately. I've been whisked away to an unfamiliar land, lost my only friend. I've never felt more alone.”  
She smoothed her dress and looked away.”  
'You've got me,” Ruby plopped down beside Katrine, spreading her legs wide apart.  
“We're hardly friends,” Katrine said quietly.  
“Well no, but I'm at least more attractive than Devlan.”  
Ruby smiled wide and Katrine just shook her head.  
The girls began their walk again, this time counting familiar constellations in the ever-darkening sky. After passing a small collection of house gathered close together,they came upon a small temple. Light gleamed from its windows-unusual for this time of night.  
“I wonder if it's a funeral,” Katrine wondered out loud. Geilish funerals lasted long into the night,over a span of several days. Ruby was at the window, face pressed against the stained glass, motioning Katrine to her side. She hurried over and pressed her face against the glass. The pews, which had been originally bolted to the floor, had been pulled up and moved against the walls. From altar to arches cots were lined up, mostly full of people. Across the altar sat a long plank of wood, covered with scrolls. Behind it, an old, stout dwarf talked to the head priestess. Various priestesses walked about amongst the sick and wounded, waving decanters full of burning herbs, calling on the Great Mother to heal them.  
They had just backed away from the window when a figure moved through the grass towards them. He was tall for his age, with well-formed shoulders and bronze skin. His curly black hair was cropped close to his head, in the traditional Shaa military style. His dark eyes, almost black, shone with a youthfulness unusual to his station. His broad jaw held a frown unfitting for his square-shaped face.  
“Is everything all right?” he asked, his voice serious.  
“We were just exploring the sights of outer Valencia-” Ruby began, stepping forward. “When we saw this temple with every light on. It's unusual for a temple to be alight so late, so we decided to look inside.”  
“I will have to ask you to step away.” The boy pulled them both forward and motioned behind them with his arm. “There is nothing but pestilence and death behind you.”  
He turned on his heel for the stables where he was tending to a mount: a large ram with gigantic curved horns and a bridle. It wore a steel face plate, which was removed, and lying in a corner for as long as the boy was tending to it. It wasn't traditional, but his lord preferred it.  
The boy turned and the two girls were behind him.  
“C-can I help you?” his voice squeaked a little on the question and Ruby grinned.  
“How old are you?”  
“Sixteen,” he replied.  
She frowned a bit, but continued.  
“What do you know about the people in the infirmary?”  
“Not much. Sir Orick won't tell me much. I know some seem to have been devoured by something. They never live very long. The rest are suffering from some sort of plague. Unless either of you are priestesses or healers, I would recommend you both going back to Valencia proper.”  
“What's your name?”  
“Tristan Marrone, squire to Sir Orick Thunderhammer”  
“Ruby Dane,” she held out her hand. “What is this you're tending to?”  
Tristan was bowing to both Ruby and Katrine. Katrine smiled.  
“And you are?”  
“Katrine Iros”.  
She bowed back. Ruby tried not to laugh.  
“This is a war ram.”  
“I've never seen one before,” Katrine breathed  
“They're not very traditional, but Sir Orick prefers it. He say it gives dwarves the ability to hit humans better. There aren't many left. The Rōsshian kings bred them to be gallant war mounts. Of the few that remain, most are kept as pets by nobility.”  
“Can I ride it?” Ruby asked. She was already trying to climb it  
“I would prefer you didn't.” Tristan grabbed her leg and pulled her down. She fell on her back, hitting the floor hard.  
“Fine! Have fun with your giant sheep!” she exclaimed, brushing herself off. “Come on Katrine, let's find someplace else to go.”  
Ruby stomped off, dragging Katrine along as Orick exited the temple with the head priestess. Katrine tried to open her mouth to speak, but they were already too fa


	11. The Knighthood of Sir Tristan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becoming a knight was so much more than Tristan bargained for.

Sir Orick bowed to the priestess, who returned to the infirmary. He crossed to the stables in wide strides. He was camped just outside the temple with his squire, two simple brown canvas tents dotting the horizon.  
“Tristan!” he exclaimed, checking in on his war ram.  
“Sir!” Tristan stood at attention, brush clasped firmly in his right hand and hanging at his knees. He was trying to keep from shaking.  
“You have done a fine job tending to Dûrn-go-Ruh. When you are finished, I'd like you to join me in my tent.”  
“Y-yes sir!” Tristan stammered. He turned to bow, just briefly, but Orick was already gone.  
After returning from the well to ensure Dûrn-go-Ruh had enough water for the night, he quickly locked up the stables. Tristan threw open the flaps of his plain canvas tent. His clothes reeked of the stables. He unrolled his formal clothes.   
A small stream ran through the Valencian outskirts and he stripped down to his small clothes. He waded into the stream to his knees and rubbed soap onto the fabric. The current did the rest of the rinsing. When it was finished, he rung his clothes tightly before throwing them over his shoulder. He walked barefoot up the slight incline to his tent and threw his clothes over a low-hanging tree branch to dry.  
His dress clothes were simple: black trousers with knee-high boots and a bleached white shirt with a heavy dark blue coat with buttons down the front. These dress clothes were too nice for a squire, but Sir Orick expected his squires to know how to dress for fancy occasions.  
His dark curls were threatening to shoot out in every direction, so he combed his hair back. Peering into the small mirror that he was allowed, he noticed the loose curls left from his military haircut sat on top of his head, so he decided to leave it.  
The camp was small since it was just Orick and himself on patrol. As such his tent was on the other side of camp not far from the Knight of Valencia’s large tent. Tristan hesitantly slid into the decorated flap of Sir Orick's heavy tent. Sir Orick was sitting on a cot. Leftover food on the folding table signified he had been eating while Tristan was washing his clothes.  
“Tristan! Please have a seat.” Orick stood and motioned to the empty chair. “Have you had a chance to eat? Please eat, drink. The carafe is full of wine - the priestesses are generous with their wine.”  
He laughed, a throaty dwarven laugh, and Tristan poured himself a small cup.  
“I have recommended you to Queen Ruthia. You have proven yourself in many battles, most recently the Skirmish at Bragen.”  
Tristan's eyes grew wide.  
“Thank you sir!”  
“Queen Ruthia has been keeping track of your progress as well,” Sir Orick continued. “A royal messenger visited my tent this morning. The queen has accepted my recommendation. You will continue to be my squire until the knighting ceremony a fortnight from now.”  
“Thank you, sir. It's an honor, sir.” he said, then asked, “Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?”  
“Queen Ruthia is a close friend of mine. As a result, she will ask you to do things she doesn't entrust to many other knights.”  
He nodded.  
“You may spend the night here.” he said. “Before you go, Tristan, I have something for you.”  
Sir Orick turned to a large canvas travel bag. He rummaged through it for a moment or two before turning back to the boy. The old dwarf stood before his squire, an old bronze sword hilt in his hand.  
“This was your father's,” he said gruffly. “Your mother wanted you to have it when you became a knight.”  
“Forgive me for stating the obvious, sir, but it's just the hilt.”  
“Yes,” Sir Orick continued. “The Guardian has a very dangerous twin. When combined, both swords will bring darkness to the world. The Guardian was split into three parts to hinder the discovery by Aria. Guardian is a marvelous blade. She will tell you where to find the rest of pieces if she finds you worthy.”  
Tristan slid the hilt into his belt. For the first time, he thought his father a fool. Bowing deeply, he cleared Sir Orick's plates. He would wash them in the river before bed.

When Tristan awoke the next day, Sir Orick had broken camp without him. He grabbed his everyday clothes from the tree where they had dried overnight. He slid his legs into his trousers and walked barefoot into the river. He splashed water on his face, wiping it dry with a towel.   
He returned to his tent and rolled his dress clothes into his bedroll and pulled his tent down. He rolled it around his bedroll and tied two ropes made of hemp around the ends. Using the loose ends, and hefted it over his shoulders. Orick's leftover food would last him several days as he tied the small wicker box from one of the straps hanging from his pack. He stamped on his boots and headed north to the city.

Valencia was built right into the hill beside the ocean. Tristan admired the twinkling of its lights from afar and watched it grow larger upon his approach. He found the outskirts of Valencia welcoming. The outskirts were gently rolling hills filled with mostly farmland and churches. He spent many nights around a warm hearth, eating too much, and listening to folk tales told by the locals. He was sad to leave it since it was the closest thing to home that he’d ever come across in his travels with Orick.  
Tristan approached Valencia's city gates, a large imposing stone structure built into the swamp, he was stopped by the guard. Armed men were always questioned.  
“Name and business in Valencia.”  
The guard was burly and sour, and for the first time in eight years, Tristan thought about running.  
“Tristan Marrone, squire to Sir Orick Stonefist; friend of Queen Ruthia.”  
He slid out the scroll from beneath his roll and presented it to the guard. The guard appraised it, then nodded before waving him through. Tristan always hated this part of the city the most, masses of people huddled in corners, begging for scraps or change. Suddenly, he was six years old again, and his mother would come back smelling of strange men. She would always count her earnings in front of him.

“Look Tristan. Soon Mama will be able to buy your way into squiring,” she'd say with a hollow smile.

The next year, she found Orick Stonefist. He wasn't looking for a squire, but he took pity on the poor woman and bought Tristan from her, for twenty pieces of gold. He didn't know where his mother was; she'd send him letters periodically, but they stopped after he had turned nine.The last of Orick's supper had been Tristan's breakfast and his stomach growled with hunger. He found the nicest tavern he could and paid for two nights. He held his breath while he slept. When the noises in the room next door grew too loud, he left. The inner city was everything he was hoping it would be: beautiful tree-lined streets made of cobblestone, gentle-rolling hills, with the castle in the distance. He wiped the mud from his feet.

“A Knight of Shiara!” he was announced, walking through the gates of Valencia's Keep. The Keep had not been a keep in a long time, but the subsequent queens after Valencia continued to build; it looked more like a palace now than a castle.  
“No no,” Tristan began. “Shiara has no knights.”  
“My apologies,” the page turned to Tristan. “How shall I announce you?”  
“I'm Tristan Marrone; I'm here for the knighting ceremony. I'm Sir Orick's squire.”  
The page cleared his throat and began again. Tristan took in the lush carpets and deep burgundy walls of the entrance hall. A young man, not much older than himself, dressed in the royal colors hurried to his side.  
“Sir Marrone, please, let me take this!”  
The boy pulled the pack off his back before Tristan could protest.  
“This way, sir,” The boy was off. Tristan was brought up a flight of marble steps, gilded with gold and covered with a red crushed velvet rug. A left at the top of the stairs brought Tristan and his servant to a dark hallway. The rich wood paneling on the walls were reminiscent of another time, and Tristan could hear voices of the other squires through the doors.  
“Your room is here on left, Sir Marrone. Apologies, but you'll have to share. Sir Grian has already taken the room on the left.”  
The room Tristan was in had been large once. It was now split into two smaller rooms with a sitting room in the center with chairs and a table, for supper and visiting. The boy bowed slightly and turned to leave.  
Tristan rolled out his dress clothes. His room had a wardrobe and he hung up his clothes before debating what to do with his tent. He'd probably need a tent in his travels, but, being a knight, he'd probably get a larger one. Maybe he could squire someone. The servant had run off before telling Tristan all the details. He pulled the heavy curtains open and was amazed what he could see. Valencia was bustling in the midday sun and if he squinted, he could see the gates. He had just laid back on the bed for a quick nap when a boy with wavy brown hair and freckles came bursting through the door. Several other knights were behind him; they were laughing.  
“You must be the last knight,” Grian said, outstretching his hand. “Grian Mathers.”  
Tristan shook it once firmly.  
“Tristan Marrone. How many of us are there?”  
“Five,” Grian replied. “All of us, and then one more who won't leave her room.”  
“Is there anything wrong with her?”  
“Nah, the city can be overwhelming. I'm sure she'll join us for the banquet.”  
“What are we supposed to be doing right now?” Tristan asked.  
“We have free reign over the castle right now,” Grian said with a shrug.  
“Gowan and I are trying to catch glimpses of Princess Alaria in her dressing gown, but Brevin is hoping for something more,” the boy’s eyes shone with mischief. “We've heard she has a weakness for blond knights.”  
The wavy haired blonde in the back gave Tristan a wide smile.  
“We just came back to see who the last knight was.”  
Tristan let Grian and Gowan pull him from the room. He was whisked around the castle. Brevin had given up his quest for Alaria and joined the other boys.  
“Maybe I'll ask to be her personal guard.” Brevin said, lounging on a bench in the front hall. “They're supposed to swear an oath of celibacy, but everyone knows Sir Donar plows her nightly.”  
Gowan snorted and Tristan joined in.  
“I bet you've got some sordid tales,” Gowan snickered, elbowing him hard in the ribs. “Your boyish looks and bronzed skin? I bet you're beating back the girls.”  
Tristan blushed and looked away.  
“Sir Orick has kept me busy. I actually haven't had a lot of time for girls.”  
“Oh gods!” Grian exclaimed. “He's a virgin! Tonight, after the banquet, we're going to take you to the docks and you will finally know the touch of a woman!”  
Gowan stood and thrust into the back of Brevin's head. Brevin stood, shouted, and hit Gowan in the back of the head in turn.

Some time later, Kellen Raines emerged from her room. Being the only female recruit, she was given her own quarters, and given the rowdiness of the other boys, she was glad for it. She was smartly dressed, in blue breeches, boots cuffed at the ankle and a fitted white blouse. Her black hair was pinned on top of her head in a tight bun, several strands having fallen free. Her eyes were icy blue, almost grey.  
She roamed the halls of the castle alone. It was quiet and she found a place in the courtyard to practice.  
Kellen was not the first female knight Alanaria had. In fact, up until recently, men were not allowed to be knights. The queen's retainers, and personal knights, of course, were always male. It was Queen Ruthia's mother, Queen Lorelai II, The Kind that decreed the old custom archaic. Sixteen-year-old Kellen didn't mind joining the ranks of other men, she just wished the newest recruits had not been so obnoxious. She was on her way to the baths when she passed the boys in the halls. They were laughing raucously and elbowing each other. Her eyes locked with Tristan. Her icy blue stare meeting his warm brown gaze. She gave him a pleasant smile, and he returned it. Reaching for his hand, they brushed fingers in passing. The simple gesture sent shivers up her spine, and it was all she could do to keep from pressing him against the window.  
“That's the new recruit,” Grian announced loudly.  
Tristan turned, and she was gone. He heard the heavy door closing to the baths.  
“I'd like to knight her if you know what I mean,” Brevin snickered and elbowed everyone. Gowan just rolled his eyes.  
“Word is, she's the 'Ice Queen of the South',” Gowan informed, “Sir Ban tried to seduce her at a party last fall, and she turned down his advances. He had to bed a scullery maid, and she was a screamer. He couldn't hear for two days afterward.”  
“I wonder how she likes blondes,” Brevin thought out loud.  
“Did you see how she looked at Tristan?” Grian asked the boys. “I think she likes her men more exotic.”  
Gowan laughed so hard to had to lean against the wall for support.  
“I'll give you five crowns - literally everything I have, if you can bed the 'Ice Queen of the South',” Brevin said loudly. “The whores at the docks would cost you less.”  
The boys continued in jovial conversation until the ceremony began.

The knighting was a solemn affair. Only the most important nobles were allowed to attend, and lined the throne room. Tristan shifted nervously next to Brevin and Gowan. He was a sharp contrast in his dress blues. Brevin's name was called and he sauntered down the aisle before dropping to one knee. He took his place next to Kellen. Next came Tristan. The walk to the queen was the longest he had ever taken. All eyes were on him, and he suddenly felt very small. The queen had a blonde girl next to her, nearly the spitting image of her majesty herself. She must be the crown princess, Tristan thought. He lowered his gaze and dropped to one knee.  
“I dub thee, Sir Tristan Marrone, knight of the realm, one of my favored.”  
She tapped both shoulders with a dulled silver sword. Inscriptions ran along the edge. He stood, and stooped his head as a ribbon with a medallion was placed on his shoulders. The medallion had a stamp of the queen's profile, and on the back, the motto of the Valencian Knights: Through the darkest times, we preserver; when hope is lost, we'll always been near.   
Tristan stood to bow and the nobles clapped quietly.

Queen Ruthia spared no expense on her celebration banquet for her five knights. Every noble in Valencia was there, save the Baron of Soa, who everyone knew was going to marry a girl from Geil. Tristan was sat with the rest of the queen's new knights and the royal family, between Grian and Prince Alexei. The prince was decidedly better behaved.  
“Now the presentation of the royal family to The Queen's Favored Few,” a servant announced.   
Tristan and Grian were encouraged to stand, and joined the other three from the other end of the long table. First, they were presented to the nobles, then, they turned uniformly on one foot to face the royal family. They were introduced from left to right.  
“Princess Alana!” A pretty girl of thirteen stood before each of them, chestnut colored curls spiraled down her back. Tristan bowed, and repeated the oath taught to him earlier in the day:  
“I will serve the crown until the end of my days.”  
“Crown Princess Alaria!”  
The blonde girl from earlier stood. Her hair was coiled into a golden spiral and a golden circlet adorned with diamonds and rubies sat atop her head. Alaria was sixteen, and carried herself like a queen. She had been trained since birth for the crown, and it showed. He bowed and repeated the oath. Up next was Her Majesty, Queen Ruthia vi Alanaria XIV. The Alanaria line was strong in her daughter. She did not stand, yet her grey eyes saw everything. Tristan bowed and fumbled with the oath. Queen Ruthia did not notice. To her left sat Prince Consort Tȧs Mašaar, her husband, the youngest prince of Galathan. He stood, and bowed in return.  
When Princess Adria was announced by the herald, she stood up from seat. She had not been blessed with her mother's delicate features, instead favoring the rugged features of her father's homeland. The fourteen year old was promised to the oldest son of the King of Galathan -her first cousin.  
Prince Alexei was the youngest. The crown was passed matrilineally and always to the oldest daughter. At age twelve, Alexei knew he'd receive none of the glory of his sisters, instead was promised the Duchy of Shi'il, as were all the queen's brothers and sons. He was not yet betrothed, but he had heard conversations late into the night about being promised to the firstborn daughter of the new baron of Soa, to solidify Ruthia's claim on the farmlands of the south.  
After introductions, food was brought out. The first course- a cucumber salad with tomatoes and a white wine. Tristan had been eating Orick's leftovers for so long he had forgotten greens existed. Sir Orick ate the typical dwarven fare- heavy grains imported from the region of Tir with seasoned meats and a heavy ale by the same imported grain. Soon, the plates were taken away and the second course was brought out to the guests. Flagons of wine were passed down the table. Music began and jesters entered, somersaulting and juggling for the amusement of all.  
The courses seemed endless and Tristan wished for the whole thing to just be over. Honey wine was brought out and the dishes cleared away. The quintet in the corner began a jovial tune. The men stood, beginning the dance. They offered the women their hands. Tristan watched as one by one, the other knights got up to dance, leaving him alone. Princess Alana stood and joined her sisters; they danced in a circle. The queen and her consort watched for a while, then slowly he got up from his seat and joined the dancers. Prince Alexei's nursemaid, a plump, greying woman, came to retrieve him. He was protesting as he was led away from the party..  
Tristan sat sipping his honey wine out of a gold chalice when Kellen took a seat next to him. Her hair was done up in the northern fashion, half pulled up with silver hair pins. She was wearing a light blue bodice and gown with silver embroidery. Silver teardrops hung from her ears.  
“You've no one to dance with?” she asked quietly, looking into his cup.  
“They've been chasing skirts all day,” Tristan said, waving a hand in the direction of the other boys and taking another drink. He hardly seemed to notice her. “I'd be surprised if they hadn't found anybody.”  
He laughed hollowly, and Kellen grabbed his hand just as he set down his glass.  
“Dance with me!” she commanded with a smile.  
She pulled him into the whirlwind. He didn't know any of the dances, but Kellen took pride in learning the dances of the north. Tristan followed along well the best that he could.. As he danced, he caught a glimpse of Gowan in the crowd, dancing with a girl with hair like flame. He cocked his head back and waved to Grian who gave him a sign of approval.  
When they left the dance floor again, it was to get more drink. Tristan had lost count of how many cups he had had, but found it difficult to keep track when Kellen kept asking him questions.  
“Where are you from?” she asked, glass outstretched. He did the same.  
“I was told that I was born in Shiara,” he said. “But I don't remember it. My mother and I, it was only us two, we never stayed in one place for too long. The places I remember most are Port Mathias and the poor district here.”  
He ran his fingers through his curls.  
“How did you become a squire?” she asked. He was drinking deeply into his cup and was not expecting the question. She continued on.“My father was a nobleman in the city of Bain, to the southwest. Word passed of my skills at an exceptionally young age, and Dame Fenella, who was travelling through Bain at the time asked my father for permission to be a page. Dame Fenella already had several squires, and I was nearly too old for a page, and, six months later, I became her squire.”   
“My mother convinced a passing knight to take me in,” Tristan coughed on the wine, and the little he spilled on the table was quickly filled by a passing steward. “It sounds awful, but I understand why she did it. I have a long history of swordplay in my family- my father was a great noble in Shiara, so I was told, before everything went to hell. I was abysmal at swordplay, but Sir Orick was patient, or as patient as a dwarf can get and eventually I learned enough to make my father proud.”  
He smiled, and she smiled back. He was beginning to feel the effects of the wine; everything seemed softer, and he suddenly wanted to kiss those lips. He leaned forward and nearly fell out of his chair. Kellen laughed, a lyrical sort of laugh and he leaned forward again. This time he didn't fall. She didn't have time to kiss him back before he pulled away. He tried to hide the blush by turning his head, but she grabbed it with her hands and him back to face her and kissed him again. It was wonderful! For the first time he was aware of his hands. She pulled away, and rested her forehead on his, still cupping his chin.  
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” she asked lowly.  
“Yes,” he replied in kind.  
They left their drinks half full and disappeared into the crowd.

The lamps stuck into the wall was already lit when she threw open her door. Tristan followed close behind, not daring to let go, almost bursting with excitement. She threw herself against him, lips searching for his in the half-dark. She slid her tongue in between his teeth, and he couldn't keep his damn hands still! She placed them on the small of her back, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Tristan was content to stay like this forever, but Kellen seemed content to wander under his stiff coat. He pulled away.  
“Kellen-”  
“Hmm?”  
“Kellen, I've never been with a woman before!”  
“Do you not want this?” she asked.  
“Ba'Lethi, Ardin and Alorai, I want this so bad! I just don't know what to do.”  
“Don't worry, I'll show you.”  
She pulled him gently onto the bed. She unbuttoned his heavy coat and left it on a pile on the floor. His waistcoat, and the bit of fabric at his neck joined the coat. He was in his small clothes, and it was then that felt a wetness between his legs and he groaned.  
“Don't worry,” she said, with kindness in her voice. “It's common among the inexperienced.”  
She unbuttoned his pants and knelt down in front of him, cleaning him up with an old stocking.  
“No, please, it's embarrassing enough." He pulled the stocking away from her. "Let me do it, please."  
He wished the floor would swallow him up. He thought about leaving, but he caught her unbuttoning her dress. He dropped the stocking at his feet and stood, pulling her towards him with a force he didn't know he had. He kissed her fiercely, or tried to, and they both fell back together on the bed. He fought with the string of her first petticoat, light blue and matching her dress. She pulled away and stood, she untied the drawstrings and it fell to the floor. He reached for her second petticoat. Women had so many layers. It loosened and she stepped out of it. Her third, an ivory colored one she hiked up to her knees, revealing her cream colored silk stockings. She pushed him back against the bed and as they fell back together, her black hair billowed around them.  
Downstairs, the party continued on.  
It was over too soon, and she smiled and cupped his face. She kissed him slowly and tried again. Outside Brevin, Gowan and Grian searched the room for signs of Tristan. When then didn't see him, they assumed he had gone to the docks without them.  
Tristan awoke the next morning in Kellen's arms, happy and sated. Kellen mumbled in her sleep. Laughter filled the hallway and it was then he realized his only trousers were in a disgusting heap.  
"Kellen," he whispered. She mumbled a response. He tried again, shaking her. The movement shifted the blankets and exposed her stays, pale green with cream along the edges and shift. He saw her trousers folded on the table and wondered if they'd fit him. He decided he better wait.  
"Kellen!" He shook her a bit harder this time.  
She sat straight up, blue-grey eyes searching for an intruder.  
"Oh, it's just you, Tristan," she said with a smile.  
She yawned and stretched, and reached behind her, pulling at the strings of her stays. It eventually loosened and she pulled it over her head.  
"What are we supposed to do about those?" he pointed to his pile a foot from the bed.  
"It's too early to worry about that," she said, lying back down and pulling the covers to her neck. "The queen doesn't expect us until nine. It's only half past six."  
She threw her arms around and he forgot all about the boys in the hall.  
They both awoke with a start several hours later to a frantic pounding on the door.  
"Oh no!" she exclaimed. "We're late!"  
He was searching for his pants while she threw open the door wearing only her shift. Grian stood in front of her.  
"Have you seen Tristan? He never returned to his room."  
Tristan had finished stuffing his shirt into his trousers and was tying it as he turned to face the door. Grian stopped, mouth agape and turned quickly down the hall. Kellen let the door close without a word.  
"I'd like to see you again."  
He was picking up his clothes.  
"Me too," he said with a grin.  
She kissed him passionately.  
"I like you, Tristan."  
He was leaving. She turned to the door.  
"See you tonight."

Brevin was already in his room when Tristan returned, wearing only his small clothes. Five gold pieces lay on his bed.  
"I keep my word," Brevin said. "But I trust you'll give me details."  
"Keep your money. I don't need it."  
"But aren't you going to give me details?" Brevin asked, sliding the coins back into his hands.  
"No," Tristan replied. He pulled open a drawer on the wardrobe and pulled out a pair of clean smallclothes. The wardrobe now contained rows of bleached white shirts and Tristan pulled off his old one. "Are you going to tell me about your night on the docks?"  
Brevin was speechless. Tristan was stuffing the new shirt into the clean drawers.  
"But that was part of our deal," the blond stammered.  
"I never made a deal with you." He was tying his stockings with a ribbon. "She came to me and she's actually pretty nice."  
Brevin muttered under his breath. Tristan slid on a pair of black trousers that buttoned up the front. It had buttons that glimmered.  
"We're the Queen's Favored Few," he said, tying a bit of white fabric at his his neck. He slid on his matching waistcoat.  
"Now, please leave," he motioned to the door and began buttoning from bottom to top. His shoes had been polished while he slept and he slid into his heavy frock coat. Sir Orick never required this much clothing and Tristan noted that the heavy coat pulled his shoulders back. He rolled his neck and turned on his heel.  
He walked carefully down the hallway. Kellen's door was already open. She was standing in front of the mirror, pulling her hair up. Tristan saw his reflection in the mirror and she smiled. She turned and stamped into her boots.  
"I think I might go down to the practice yard and work off some of this steam."  
She tied her sword through a loop at her waist.  
"I could stay, if you'd like."  
He caught himself in the mirror, and he was grinning stupidly.  
"Maybe later," she said. "I don't want to get rusty."  
"If you need a sparring partner. I'd be happy to oblige."  
She smiled. It was amazing how one smile could bring back memories so recent. She kissed him on the forehead, and followed him out of the room. When Tristan arrived back to his room, to finally eat what the servants had laid out while he was fighting with Brevin, he discovered a royal messenger already there.  
"Sir Tristan,” the man announced. "Queen Ruthia has requested an audience."  
The messenger bowed and Tristan bowed in return. He quickly ate the food on the silver platter, and made his way to throne room.

Tristan arrived at the throne room to discover that he was the only knight that had been summoned. The queen and prince consort sat on the raised dais, the crown princess Alaria, sat next to her mother, head adorned with jewels. Her knight, Donar stood nearby, with the queen's personal knights. Sir Orick was standing on the step across from the princess, sword out front of him. His stocky frame cut an imposing figure next to the royal family. Tristan fell to one knee.  
"Your Majesty, Highness. Sir Orick."  
"Sir Tristan," the queen began, voice echoing off the gilded walls. "Sir Orick has told me many things about you. It seems you will be well-suited for this task."  
Queen Ruthia paused for a moment, but Tristan didn't look up. Instead, he brought the bow deeper, resting his left arm and forehead on his leg.  
"I've been receiving word of strange murders in the Toa countryside. I will spare you the gruesome details, but I will need several knights to investigate, and bring justice to Toa. Sir Tristan, you will accompany Sir Orick. You will leave tonight."  
"Thank you, Majesty."  
Tristan stood and turned on his heel.  
"Very good," came Sir Orick's gruff voice behind him. His heavy footsteps could be heard echoing through the empty throne room for a long time.

Tristan sat at his mahogany desk, composing a letter to Kellen when Grian entered. Word of Tristan's sudden outburst had passed quickly through the knights, and Grian entered quietly. He noticed Tristan's pack on the bed.  
"Are you leaving?" he asked, pulling up the other chair.  
"I've received a summons from the queen. I'm to go to Toa."  
“Already?”   
Grian noticed the paper on the desk, and peered over Tristan’s shoulder.  
"What are you writing?"  
Tristan pulled the letter away.  
"A goodbye letter to Kellen."  
"You really like her." There was no hint of sarcasm in his voice. "She's still in the practice yard, if you want to say goodbye in person."

Kellen was packing up when Tristan stopped her in the yard.  
"Oh Tristan, I'm sorry. I forgot all about sparring with you, but I suppose I could find the strength, if you want to practice now."  
He reached for her hand. "I came to say goodbye, Kellen. I've received a summons from the queen. I'm to go to Toa."  
She drew his face to hers, and kissed him deeply, fingers tangling in his curls.  
"I'll see you when you get back," she said when they parted. "Be safe."


End file.
